


Within You, Without You

by mapleandmahogany



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Erotica, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Mystery, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-26
Updated: 2007-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:57:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 64,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleandmahogany/pseuds/mapleandmahogany
Summary: Unless time had changed things very much, she knew the intense gaze of those green eyes meant that he wanted her as much as she did him.“Gin?” Harry said, as one hand reached up to stroke her hair, too intimate for a friend.





	1. Something

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

~^~^~^  
  
  
Ginny had been waiting all morning for the sound.   
  
Waiting.   
  
She helped with the party preparations, looking casual. Knowing she pulled it off.   
  
The tingling sensation that rushed between her skipping heart and her sweaty palms never betrayed her. Not spilling so much as a drop of pumpkin juice all morning, while she listened for the sound.  
  
 _Pop._ There it was.  
  
She knew the instant she heard the tiny noise that it was him and no one else. She didn’t need what she heard next to confirm it.  
  
“Harry!” chorused several excited voices of her family out in the garden.   
  
She didn’t need to see what transpired outside to know what was happening. Hermione and her mum were hugging him, her brothers clapping him on the back and shoving him around a bit, because every one was a prat and liked to shove around _‘Harry Potter.’_ And she was certain that Fred licked his finger and swiped Harry’s specs.   
  
But she didn’t move from her spot in front of the counter. Using her wand, she continued to guide two pitchers in filling a dozen glasses with pumpkin juice.  
  
She took a deep breath, willing herself not to look out the doorway, not to be standing there blushing like a Weasley.   
  
The tingling in her palms increased as she fought the desire to run outside and join the others greeting him. She couldn’t remember feeling quite this nervous while fighting Death Eaters when she was only fourteen.   
  
_‘Just wait,’_ she told herself. _‘Be patient. You’ve done this for a long time. Just a few more minutes.’  
_  
The throng of voices pitched with laughter outside. They were all enjoying his company right now.   
  
As usual, she would wait with infuriating patience for everyone else to have their piece of him first: the wizarding world at large, and her family, and even that woman. She knew Harry would come to her eventually. That skipping heartbeat told her so. Nothing else in the world caused it, not even those Death Eaters when she was fourteen.  
  
Only Harry could do that to her.   
  
And only Harry would have her do something as ridiculous as carry a piece of parchment in her pocket every day for the past two weeks.  
  
It had arrived in the Owl post during breakfast on the morning of her final N.E.W.T. exam. She had sent Ron and Hermione a short letter asking if they would be coming to the Burrow for today’s party. There hadn’t been a leaving school party in the family since Percy’s.   
  
Hermione would of course see through the absurd note. Hermione would know who Ginny was really asking about.  
  
But the response couldn’t have shocked and pleased Ginny more. On the back of her own letter was something she never expected to see: Harry’s untidy scroll.  
  
  
 _Gin,  
We will all be at the Burrow.  
Can’t wait to see you again.   
Harry  
  
  
_It was short. It was innocuous. But it was the first and last letter that she had ever received from him.  
  
Not once during her sixth year, when she still held hope every day of hearing news from him, had he written to her.   
  
She never expected a letter from him during the past year. Not while he was trying to create a normal life for himself. Not while he was seeing that woman. Not while she was still at school.  
  
But it was with her now. She put her hand into her pocket and fingered the parchment, knowing he’d held it in his hand while writing it.  
  
“I think she’s in the kitchen, mate,” one of her brothers said outside.  
  
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. In mere seconds she would see him. She would have every reasonable excuse in the world to embrace him.  
  
That embrace would be nothing like the hugs her brothers gave her: a quick squeeze around the shoulders, a rough pat on her upper back, maybe mussing her hair a bit.   
  
No, Harry’s hug would linger slightly longer than the rest. It would be perfectly respectful and he’d be able to do it in front of every member of her family, but she knew the difference. She would feel his whole body against hers, if only for a moment. She’d feel his hands on her waist. She would be able to run her hands over his back and hold him tight, feel his breath against her neck and smell the scent of him.  
  
“Hey Gin, welcome home.”   
  
Her sweaty palms finally betrayed her as her wand slipped, allowing a levitating pitcher to knock over the last glass of juice.  
  
~^~^~^   
  
Harry laughed as he was jostled roughly from one honorary brother to another and receiving sloppy kisses on his cheek from the women. It only took a moment to recognize that the red head he truly wanted to see wasn’t present.  
  
Something in his chest plummeted with disappointment that she wasn’t the first person in his arms.   
  
He quickly tried to calculate how long he should wait before asking about her. Fighting the growing urge to storm about the place, calling out her name until he found her.   
  
He took his time with this family that he loved. He answered their polite inquiries, and recited his rehearsed line regarding the latest Quidditch match. He made respectful eye contact with everyone he spoke to, all the while searching his peripheral vision for some sign of her.  
  
Harry casually made his way through the many levitating chairs being settled around the long table in preparation for their outdoor meal.   
  
He felt an inexplicable pull towards the house, and knew she must be inside. He knew the feeling, like the attraction of a magnet to its pole; he had been denying that feeling for a long time. Now he was ready to follow that pull and was desperately hoping she felt the same.  
  
So much had changed. At the time, he hadn’t known how else to deal with what was before him without cutting out what made him soft. The thing that made him wish he were a normal young man with a normal future ahead.   
  
So he’d denied it. Denied her.   
  
The first year had been full of darkness and battle and pain. He never wanted to associate her with all that, so he cut her out.  
  
The second year had been about recovery, about adjustment. He had to learn how to let people in again. He had to figure out how he could live a life that wasn’t doomed after all; learn to hope again.  
  
Harry was shaken from his thoughts when Fred seized him from the side.   
  
“Oi, Harry, I’ve got something for you,” he said, as he wiped a spit-slicked finger over his eyeglass lens.   
  
“A-haha -gets funnier every time, Fred,” Harry said shaking his head as he removed his glasses to wipe them clean again. Fred seemed pleased with himself.  
  
“So, where you off to?” Fred asked, with an air of knowing all too well exactly what Harry was up to.   
  
“Erm, just to get a drink?” Harry knew it was too much to hope that Fred didn’t notice the flush he felt rise in his face. That really should not have been a question.   
  
Harry was thankful for the soft spot the twin had for him. It won out and Fred decided not to tease him further.  
  
“I think she’s in the kitchen, mate,” Fred said, walking back into the garden, grinning in a way that made Harry flush further.  
  
He was grateful to have one more second to himself before seeing her. For one more moment he could hang on to his hope. He could hang on to the dream that she still wanted to be with him.   
  
That she had not forgotten what they had started in spite of his cruel silence over the recent years. In spite of the young woman he had let distract him. In spite of the young Ravenclaw man she had let distract her.  
  
How he prayed that young man had been nothing more to Ginny than a distraction. He couldn’t bear to think of how far she may have let that distraction go.  
  
He still felt the magnetic pull though. That had to mean something. He knew she had every right to be angry, to be distant, to be cautious. Even still, he was certain he would know if he still had a chance with her within the first moment.   
  
He tried to fill his sunken chest with the spirit of Gryffindor as he walked through the kitchen doorway.  
  
There she was, breathtaking and beautiful. Her hair. Her shape. The last time he saw her was during the holidays and she dressed in jeans and frumpy jumpers and witch’s robes. She was beautiful in his eyes even then, but now, in cut off jean shorts with a school oxford tied at her waist, the burn he felt for her only intensified.   
  
He found his voice, wishing he could convey all that was in his heart for her with a simple sentence.  
  
“Hey Gin, welcome home.”   
  
The glass that tipped over and juice running down the counter told him everything. He smiled as the creature in his chest sprung to life again.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
“Bugger!” Ginny muttered as she grabbed a towel to sop up the mess. Harry was by her side in an instant, chuckling as he righted the glass.  
  
“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” she lied for the first time today, laughing off her embarrassment.  
  
“Oh, you weren’t?” Harry said, turning to face her. Was that a hint a disappointment in his voice?  
  
“Well, yes, I knew you were coming, but, I just.” Ginny made a note to pinch herself later for sounding so daft. “Hi,” she said, and though the moment was marred, she hugged him. They were friends. Practically family in an odd way, hugging him was perfectly innocent.   
  
Not so innocent perhaps, were the passionate images flashing through her mind while she pressed her cheek against his hard chest, pulling him tight. She was happy to have the opportunity to admire him in the light blue polo shirt and loose faded jeans he wore.   
  
Wishing she had taken up study of Occlumency, she wondered if he could see her thoughts. She wanted him to pull her close and kiss her like he did that first time so long ago. She wished for his hands to explore her body freely and grind against her like he had just begun to do before he walked out of her life.   
  
And yet, things might be easier if he could see into her mind and what she wanted from him. She had always done a better job of showing Harry how she felt than telling him.   
  
Ginny wasn’t imagining this hug though. Their bodies pressed together from shoulder to thigh, their palms open against each others back and there was no mistaking this was lingering. Without doubt, a mere friendly embrace would have broken apart by now, but he seemed as intent on holding onto her as she was to him.  
  
As the moment passed by them, she tilted her head up look at him. She searched his eyes for some sense of what he wanted.   
  
Unless time had changed things very much, she knew the intense gaze of those green eyes meant that he wanted her as much as she did him.   
  
“Gin?” Harry said, as one hand reached up to stroke her hair, too intimate for a friend.  
  
 _‘Yes, Harry, say it, I’m ready,’_ she answered in her mind, holding her breath, afraid that saying anything out loud might quiet him again.  
  
Unfortunately, what did quiet him was the arrival of her mum, Hermione and Charlie.  
  
Harry smiled, looking uncomfortable, and Ginny didn’t miss the disappointment in his eyes. He was apparently annoyed at the interruption as much as she was. Even more promising, she thought: he didn’t startle and jump away from her, as if guilty for being caught doing something wrong. He gave her one more imperceptible squeeze and slowly, almost regretfully, pulled away from her.   
  
He didn’t seem afraid of letting her family see them together, that much she noticed as well.  
  
Mrs. Weasley was waving her wand, levitating several dishes out the door and issuing instructions to all.  
  
“Help me?” Ginny asked, and together they levitated the drinks outside, biding their time with small talk.  
  
Bill and Fleur arrived amid the commotion and everyone found their seats. Harry intended to sit next to Ginny but Ron turfed him out of the only open seat, between Ginny and his wife. Mr. Weasley was already seated at the head of the table on Ginny’s other side so Harry had to sit across from Ginny.  
  
The family talked about everything and nothing, all at once. Ginny felt as if there were a white hippogriff sitting at the table between them, but no one else seemed to notice.  
  
Everyone listened to Ginny’s report on her N.E.W.T. exams and about the train ride home and who among her classmates were getting married this summer.  
  
Ginny held up her part beautifully, never faltering in the account of her Potions’ practical while noticing how the breeze lifted the tufts of hair off Harry’s forehead, and observing how the tip of his thumb glistened after he licked it free of pudding.  
  
“How was the leaving feast, Ginny? Was it nice?” Hermione asked from the other side of Ron.  
  
“Not bad. Same as usual I guess,” she answered, which really wasn’t true at all. She had spent the whole time unable to decide which was worse, staying at school, apart from Harry or leaving school and finding that he had moved on.  
  
“Ron told us about winning the Quidditch cup; that’s brilliant!” Charlie said.  
  
“It was,” said Ron through a mouthful of potatoes. “She could have caught the Snitch at least two different times but she let it go and waited until they were eighty five points ahead so they could take the cup. And they beat Slytherin at that -was great!”  
  
Ginny smiled to hear Ron’s enthusiasm, glancing over to see Harry’s reaction.   
  
It had meant so much to her that Ron and Hermione had come to see the match. Though she had been plenty annoyed with herself for being disappointed that Harry had not come with them.  
  
“Sorry I missed that one,” Harry said. “It sounded like a good match.”  
  
“That’s all right. It was no big deal,” Ginny lied, for the second time. _  
_  
“But Gin, what happened?” Fred interrupted. “How did Ravenclaw manage to win the House Championship? Honestly, little sister, I expected more from you.”  
  
“I didn’t lose it all by myself,” she answered, trying to keep things light. The truth was, outside of Slytherin house, the Gryffindor students had suffered the worst from the war that had just ended. Winning house points didn’t seem so important after the perspective of the past few years.   
  
But no amount of provoking was going to make her mention the bloody war right now.  
  
“But come on, the last year a Weasley Gryffindor attends Hogwarts, and we lost it. It’s a bleedin’ shame, Ginny. You weren’t supporting _Ravenclaw_ by any chance, were you?”  
  
 _There it is,_ she thought, feeling a spiteful smirk creep into her lips. She knew it wouldn’t be long before having to tolerate a ribbing about the Ravenclaw prefect she had been seeing. She chanced a quick peek at Harry, who looked a little pink in the face himself and appeared to be mutilating his dinner roll.  
  
”Bugger off, Fred. How many points did you win for Gryffindor in your seventh year? Hmm? Oh, right – none!” she countered.  
  
“All right, you lot,” Mrs. Weasley interrupted. “Enough of that. Finish up.”  
  
But Fred was unfazed, and Ginny knew it. He and George had started earning bags of gold that year, and he’d never felt any remorse for leaving school early.  
  
“So Gin, how much support is _Ravenclaw_ getting these days eh? You still cheering for the Ravenclaw team? You wearing a _Ravenclaw_ badge on your robes?” Fred never did know when to quit, especially when trying to compensate for George’s absence as well.   
  
Ginny was just about to lose patience with her brother, when another stepped in.  
  
“I think that Fred’s trying to find out if you’re still seeing that Ravenclaw bloke?” said Ron, looking cautiously at her out of the corner of his eye, avoiding Harry.  
  
Ginny cast one more dirty look at Fred, who was finally quiet and began eating, smiling to himself. He seemed satisfied that he had stirred the cauldron quite enough, blinking innocently at her.  
  
“Well, it’s not a secret,” Ginny answered, thinking she’d throttle Fred before the day was over. “I’ll answer the question to anyone who can ask it honestly.” She pulled a face at Fred again.  
  
“Then? Have you ditched him or not?” Ron asked, taking another bite. Ginny wondered if a single one of her brothers would learn not to speak with his mouth full.  
  
Ginny looked past him at Hermione, who was giving Ron an aggravated look for his lack of subtlety.  
  
“What?” Ron asked. Hermione looked apologetic.  
  
Ginny, wishing her damn family would just stay out of things, answered honestly, “Yes, I broke it off a few months ago.”  
  
Ginny took another bite, quickly looking at Harry, who she was certain smiled briefly behind his drinking glass. She would have rather avoided this, but at least now Harry knew there was no one else.  
  
“I dated a Ravenclaw boy during my seventh year,” said their mother, drawing attention to her end of the table. “Made your father furiously jealous. That’s how I nabbed him in the end, you know.” Mrs. Weasley gave a cheeky grin to her husband, who nodded and winked at his wife.  
  
“The truth of the matter is,” he said, with a hushed voice in mock pretense of keeping his words concealed from Mrs. Weasley, “that Ravenclaw was an abominable bore. I was taken with pity for the old girl and took up with her myself.”  
  
The whole table giggled, and Ginny and Harry were able to make eye contact once again.   
  
~^~^~^  
  
Harry was thankful for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s diversion. Listening to Fred torment Ginny about her love life, one that didn’t include him, was more than he could bear. He’d have to remember to thank Ron for putting an end to it, even if he’d not done so very delicately.  
  
Unfortunately, Fred wasn’t finished quite yet. He was clearly aware of the white hippogriff that lounged between Ginny and himself, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until everyone else knew.  
  
“Now Harry, do tell us, have you seen much of _Ireland_ lately?” Fred asked, looking down the table with wide, innocent eyes.  
  
Harry gritted his teeth and felt his temperature rise. He was going to throttle Fred before the day was done. Several hexes that wouldn’t hurt but keep him silent came to mind.  
  
“ _Ireland_ was looking beautiful last time I saw,” Fred continued, chewing slowly. Harry didn’t miss Charlie’s and Bill’s chuckling, keeping their heads bowed, nor did he miss the clink as Ginny dropped her fork on her plate. He couldn’t bring himself to look at her.  
  
“Fred, what are you talking about? Neither you or Harry has been out of the country in months,” Mrs. Weasley said.  
  
Harry winced at her attempt, but she just didn’t understand. Shannon had been from Ireland, and she was the last thing he wanted to have to discuss at this dinner table, on this beautiful day, with Ginny sitting across from him.  
  
“Actually, Mum, Harry’s had quite a tour of _Ireland_ this year,” Fred answered.  
  
“Really?” asked Mrs. Weasley. Harry gripped his wand.  
  
“Quidditch!” Ron interrupted loudly, sending bits of his last bite onto the table. “Who’s up for a pick up match? Me and Harry’ll take on the lot of you!”  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged quick looks as they abruptly stood up from the table. Ginny followed immediately.  
  
Soon, all were scrambling to find broomsticks and bats. Ron had received a set a of Quidditch balls for Christmas last year. Bill and Charlie transfigured dinner plates into goal hoops and charmed them to levitate above the garden.  
  
Harry was in the air circling, before anyone else. Ron quickly joined him.  
  
“Thanks for the distraction, mate,” Harry said.  
  
“Yeah, Fred’s an arse,” Ron said, as he looked to where Harry was staring below them. Ginny was holding her broomstick between her knees as she tied her hair up into a ponytail. “But he’s never far from the mark is he?”   
  
Harry looked wide-eyed at Ron, who waggled his eyebrows before flying off in front of the hoops.   
  
Never in the history of Quidditch games played over the Burrow had a more pitiful game been played, even in spite of the fact that Ron was a professional Keeper now. Albeit, he was a reserve player, his notoriety at being associated with Harry in addition to his skill and enthusiasm helped secure him a position.   
  
Regrettably, Ron’s skills alone couldn’t win against Bill, Charlie, Fred and Ginny. Harry was thoroughly distracted. He was playing Chaser/Seeker and he spent far too much time watching after Ginny (“the Snitch,” he said), than he did trying to score. At one point Ron hovered above him, after narrowly clubbing away a Bludger from an oblivious Harry.   
  
“Mate, if you don’t pull it together we’re going to lose to this lot or you’ll lose your head to Bludger. Budge up!” Ron said. Harry thought it rather diplomatic of him to not mention Ginny, since it was her legs that he had been staring at.  
  
Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Ever since he hugged her before lunch, he couldn’t think of anything but having his hands on her again. Running his hands down her back, along her waist, and feeling her _hips_. He didn’t remember her having such curves before. Of course, back then he had been very cautious about where and how much he let his hands roam, but he wasn’t feeling such concern right now.   
  
Thoughts of touching Ginny caused him a very uncomfortable seat on his broomstick, and he flew like rubbish.  
  
And so, with much cheering, hooting and shameful gloating, Ginny caught the Snitch and _Team Weasley_ beat _Team Potter-Weasley_ quite soundly.  
  
The three oldest ran into the house to raid the kitchen in search of whatever Mrs. Weasley had prepared for afters.  
  
Harry thought Ron would be upset with him, but when he landed he promptly pounced on Hermione who had found a place in the shade to watch the match.   
  
“Ron, no! Get off, you’re all sweaty,” she giggled as he pushed her back, brazenly lying on top of her in the grass, silencing her laughter with a snog.   
  
Harry and Ginny laughed at them and looked away.  
  
“That was a good match. You really are a good Seeker,” he said.  
  
“Thanks, Harry. You’re a good Seeker too, but honestly you seemed a bit off your game today. You have something on your mind?”  
  
 _Aside from wanting to know what your legs would feel like around my shoulders?_ Harry thought with a fleeting image in his mind that made him shift on his feet.  
  
“No – but you outnumbered us two to one,” he said, glancing behind him to see if Ron and Hermione were still at it. They were.   
  
“I don’t know how you put up with it for so long,” Ginny said, giggling, as Hermione hooked an ankle over Ron’s leg.  
  
“Well, mostly because this is better than all the fighting, though sometimes not much quieter.”  
  
“Harry!” Hermione scolded, but she and Ron both laughed at Harry’s teasing. Untangling herself from Ron, she stood up. “You three must be thirsty after that match. I’ll get us some drinks.”  
  
“I’ll go with you,” Ginny offered. Harry regretted the interruption. He didn’t want to see her go, but didn’t mind watching her walk away either.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
When the girls returned with tall glasses of pumpkin juice, they found Ron still in the same spot, sprawled on his back in the shade.   
  
Harry had walked some distance away and was leaning on a tree with his back to them.   
  
“Oh no…” Hermione said when she saw him. Both girls knew he was gazing ahead of him at the grave, which lay at the foot of an outcropping of rocks.  
  
“What’s the matter?” asked Ron, sitting up when he heard Hermione’s exclamation.  
  
“It’s Harry,” said Hermione, handing Ron the drink she brought. “Look at him. He’s going to go all sullen now, and it’s been such a lovely day too.”  
  
“He’s not gone all sullen,” Ron said in defense of Harry, after drinking half the glass of juice. Both girls sat on either side of him. “He’s just, I dunno, remembering, I guess.”  
  
“How do you know? Did the two of you talk then?” Hermione asked.   
  
“No, we didn’t _talk,_ ” Ron said, pulling a face. “What are we, a couple of birds? I just _know_ , you know? Harry’s just remembering that day, digging the grave… and if I know my mate at all, he’s remembering you too, Gin.”   
  
Hermione stroked his face making a girlish whimpering sound, which made him roll his eyes.  
  
Ginny blushed. She had great insight on Harry, but her brother really did know him best.  
  
With the drinks in hand, Ginny took a deep breath and set off to join Harry. Finally she could get time alone with him. She would divert his attention from who was buried there.  
  
~^~^~^

Reviews are like chocolate, please take the time to leave one – Thank you!

 

I owe Mrspadfoot a world a thanks for her early beta work and 11pm encouragement. Belovedranger, for taking a Harry story, even though he’s like her brother.

Harrysmom, Fitzette, and Allipotter for their Ginny perspective and enthusiasm, and OncelikeShari for the random Brit picking.  


	2. This Boy

~^~^~^  
  
Ginny approached Harry with drinks in hand. Under the blazing June sun, she reflected back to the Christmas holiday, six months earlier. It had been her last day at home before returning to Hogwarts for her final term. She’d never forget how unexpectedly that day had developed.  
  
~^~^  
  
“…and here’s a tin a biscuits I made; I really think I got it right this time,” Hermione was saying. Ron met Ginny’s eyes behind Hermione, shaking his head vigorously but giving Hermione an affectionate pat on the back.   
  
Ginny had to change the subject, to avoid laughing. Apparently Hermione still wasn’t a very good cook. “Oh, and what’s the big one?” she asked as Ron put a large, hatbox size package on the table.”  
  
“I’m sorry, Ginny. Actually, this one is for Harry. It arrived this morning,” Hermione said.  
  
“Oh, well, why did you bring it? Wasn’t Harry home?” Of course she realized the answer as soon as the words left her mouth. “He wasn’t home this morning because he wasn’t home last _night_ , was he?” Ginny dearly wanted to throw something or hex a hole in the wall, but she figured doing so just might give away the fact that she was bothered by this information - something she wasn’t willing to admit to anyone else, let alone herself. Instead, she just shrugged and offered them a cup of tea.  
  
Another hour passed before the flames in the hearth blazed green, and suddenly Harry tripped out of the Floo and into the kitchen.  
  
Ginny noticed immediately how the hair around the base of his neck was damp and sticking to his skin. His face was flushed pink, and his jumper and robe appeared disheveled just enough so that he looked as though he’d been hurrying.  
  
“Good morning! Sorry. I would have Flooed over with you guys, but I slept late,” he said looking at Ron, and avoiding Ginny.  
  
Ron handed him a cup of tea, and stooped low to talk into his ear. He was whispering but Ginny still heard, “Truth’s already out, mate, sorry.” Ron gave him a wry grin and took his seat next to Hermione.  
  
Harry looked embarrassed. Ginny thought it was at least a little comfort that he wanted to keep his overnight excursions secret from her. She was also thankful that he had taken the time to shower. On her last day with him, she could remember him smelling like Harry, and not like that tart.  
  
“Oh, Harry, this parcel arrived for you,” Hermione said. “It was so big. I thought it might be important.”  
  
“I’m not expecting any packages. I’ve been waiting for Hedwig with a letter from George, but that’s all.”  
  
They all shifted uncomfortably at Harry’s mention of their brother. Ron spoke up quickly to keep the mood light.  
  
“Better watch out then, Harry; might be a collection of knickers from your fan club,” Ron said, chuckling. Harry had received numerous love-letters and packages of sweets after his defeat of Voldemort.  
  
While Ron refilled their teacups, Hermione and Ginny were sitting at the end of the table, gossiping furiously about Fleur.   
  
No one was paying much attention when Harry opened the brown paper wrapping on the box, untied the string and lifted the lid. They all jumped when Harry let out a choked yell of horror. Ginny looked up at him, but he was already pale and fleeing from the room. Ron immediately took his wand in hand and aimed it at the box as he lifted the lid and cautiously peeked inside. Ginny was on her feet when Ron’s eyes went wide, and he twisted his face in disgust as he slammed the lid shut again.  
  
They could hear the sound of Harry retching just outside the door.  
  
“What is it?” Hermione asked, eyes wide as she quickly went to the box.  
  
“No, Hermione, don’t!” Ron exclaimed, grabbing her by the arms. He was pale and his eyes were red as he looked from her to Ginny and then back again. “It’s Hedwig. She’s dead. Been killed.”  
  
The sound of pumping blood filled Ginny’s ears, and she barely heard Hermione sobbing into Ron’s chest. Every heartbeat seemed to reverberate in her chest, and every breath of air rushed straight to her brain. She methodically took her robe from the stand next to the door and put it on, grabbing Harry’s as she went outside.  
  
Ginny’s mind swirled in confusion and disbelief as she let instinct pull her in Harry’s direction.   
  
Harry’s fame and her family’s notoriety in association with him were usually just annoying and caused them to have plan ahead a little for their outings. However, being in the public eye did bring out the strangest people as well. They all received occasional threats from some loon over one thing or another. It was usually pureblood sympathizers or relatives of Death Eaters and the like. However, nothing of any consequence had happened since the attack on Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes right after the war ended.  
  
Ginny made her way slowly over the dead grass and rocks, clutching her robe tightly as the bitter cold wind blew through her. The ground was still frozen, and it felt as though it would snow again soon.   
  
Harry was sitting under a big oak tree just at the edge of the open field where her family played Quidditch.  
  
Without thinking about what she did, Ginny just took what action felt right. She sat against the tree trunk behind Harry and put her hands on his back. Harry trembled under her touch. He turned around to face her, looking into her eyes.  
  
He was pale, and his eyes and nose were pink from grief and cold. She thought she had never seen him look so desperate.  
  
“Why, Gin? Why would someone do it?” His voice was strained, and he looked at Ginny as though honestly hoping she could provide him with an explanation.  
  
All she could do was shake her head and hold her arms out to him. He leaned into her embrace, resting his head against her chest and letting out his sorrow over the cruel murder of his childhood friend.   
  
Ginny’s heart broke for him, and there were no adequate words to comfort him with. All she could do was hold him close. She threw his cloak over him and held him tight, stroking his hair and kissing his head. This much felt right.   
  
She didn’t know how much time had passed before Harry’s tears had subsided. He continued to hold her tight, his head nestled closely into her. Ginny was willing to remain out in the cold all day long, but unwilling to let go of him for anything.   
  
When they heard footsteps approaching behind them, Harry sat up. He looked hard at Ginny for a moment and cupped her cheek with his hand.  
  
They both looked up to see Ron and Hermione come around the tree. Hermione held that horrible box, now wrapped in white cloth. Ron had a pick axe over his shoulder and shovel in his other hand, which he held out to Harry.  
  
“I’m sorry, Harry,” Ron said, as Hermione sniffed behind them. “We’ll find out who did it, but right now let’s put her to rest, okay?”  
  
Harry wiped his wet face with his sleeve and stood up, taking the shovel from him. He stood, looking confused by the shovel in his hand and looking curiously at Ron.   
  
“Some jobs are best done the Muggle way, ‘s what Dad says,” said Ron with shrug. He led the way toward a jetty of large rocks. Near a holly bush, Ron began to swing the pick, breaking up the rocks and icy earth while Harry dug it up.  
  
Ginny and Hermione huddled together, shivering in the bitter wind. They watched while the boys fatigued themselves with the work. Ginny understood why Ron suggested doing this without magic. Harry needed the physical task to throw himself into.  
  
They all buried Hedwig together that day. Ginny held Harry’s hand outside in the cold, just silently supporting him. When the snow began to fall, Harry was ready to walk away.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
The place under the oak tree felt entirely different today, with its green surroundings and the distant happy sounds of her family in the background.   
  
“Harry?” Ginny said as she approached him, not sure what his mood would be, standing in this place where they last held each other during a time of grief. Ron had said Harry wasn’t sullen, only _remembering_ , so she was going to gamble on her brother’s insight.  
  
Ron had got it right, because the handsome face that greeted her indeed looked quite content. His hair was windswept and his face pink from the sun.   
  
“Thirsty?” Ginny asked as she handed him his glass. She noticed how odd this simple act appeared, how _domestic_ it was. What was stranger was that she didn’t feel uncomfortable about doing this. It felt good to take care of Harry.  
  
“So, about that lousy Quidditch playing, Harry,” she teased, which was always her easiest approach. “Am I going to have to give _you_ Seeker lessons now?”  
  
He smiled as he took a drink, and nodded.  
  
“Yeah, you might. But I think I’d still play lousy with you around.”  
  
All the muscles in her jaw tightened as she willed herself not to grin stupidly, or blush too hard.   
  
_So he wants to flirt does he? I can do that,_ she thought to herself.  
  
“Rubbish; you just need somebody to tell you what to do,” she said, taking the opportunity to lightly poke him in the stomach. She felt the muscles there flex under her fingertips. “Somebody to tell you when to dodge, and when to dive, and …when to reach out and grab it.” Before she knew it, she tossed her head back and flicked her ponytail over her shoulder.  
  
 _What are you doing?! Why do you let Harry do this to you?_ She wondered if such feminine ploys were engrained in her blood. She’d have to speak to her mother about that.   
  
“Ok, Gin, I’ll agree to that. You teach me how to be a Seeker again. Tell me when to… ‘reach out and grab it,’ yeah?” He tilted his head back just a little, smiling and exposing his neck to her.   
  
Ginny wanted very much to be kissing her way up and down that neck, and wondered if he showed that part of himself deliberately.  
  
“All right then. You’ll have to pay attention to all the instructions you are given, and no skiving off either.” She took a step closer, watching his chest rise with each intake of breath. “If you take up lessons with me… you can’t just quit right away.” She swallowed hard. _Didn’t mean to take it quite that far. But he’s still smiling._ Keeping her gaze fixed on his, she continued. “You’ll have to stick it out for a while. Could you handle that?”  
  
Harry looked slightly awestruck, and nodded his head. “Yes ma’am,” he said in a deeper and gentler tone. “I can handle that.” Harry reached out toward her, but he didn’t seem to know what he was reaching for. His fingers settled on the ends of her shirttails, tied at her waist. “This is the best use of a Hogwarts uniform _ever,_ ” he said as he gently tugged on the tie and slowly raising his eyes back to hers. She took a tiny step closer, and he kept his hold onto the shirt.  
  
“Yes, well, my wardrobe is right sad these days. I haven’t got much outside of school uniforms. Mum and I are going to Diagon Alley actually. I need quite a few things before starting work.”   
  
“Yeah, going tomorrow?”  
  
“It’s silly really, but I’m kind of looking forward to it. Mum and Dad seem to be doing better these days, you know with money and all. With Dad’s promotion and all the boys out of the house.” Ginny realized she had broken the flirtation between them, and regretted it. “Hey, you want to go for walk?” she asked, taking him by the wrist and tugging on him.  
  
“Okay,” Harry said eagerly and he let her hand slip into his, and he held it tightly. They began walking and Ginny felt the familiar fluttering between her palms and heart pick up again when she realized they were _holding hands_.   
  
She noticed his eyes linger off in the direction of Hedwig’s grave for just a moment. She knew she couldn’t make him forget the past entirely, but he seemed willing to focus on her for now, and that was enough.  
  
They walked together hand in hand, talking easily together like they had been able to once before. The first few minutes of holding hands felt electrifying, but as they walked and talked it felt more comfortable and natural. Permission once given and received was enough.   
  
Harry told her about his work this past year as an advisor to the new Auror training program. How he had been reluctant to take the assignment, but once they told him that they would be discussing his battles with Death Eaters and Voldemort anyway, he had reckoned he might as well be the one to discuss it.  
  
She knew all about this of course, having heard the tales from him during Order meetings after the war and among her family members. But he now talked about his experiences more personally with her. Telling her honestly about the times when he was afraid and worried and about the funny things that happened along the way.   
  
At one point during his story telling he released her hand, gesticulating wildly, and when he was done he casually took her hand again, and they continued walking.  
  
They walked a wide circle around the Burrow, and the afternoon quickly passed while they talked.   
  
When the shadows were longer than the rays of sunlight streaming through the trees, Ginny realized how much of the day was gone, and they found themselves back under the great oak tree. The two glasses on the ground near the trunk indicated that they had come full circle in more ways than one.  
  
Quiet music broke through the air and they looked back towards the Burrow, seeing Ginny’s parents lighting the first lamps on the table where they had eaten lunch.   
  
“Dad’s been playing that magical music box every evening since I’ve been home,” Ginny said, letting her gaze rest on the portrait of her childhood home. “I guess we should probably head back; they’ll be eating soon.” She spoke without enthusiasm as she turned back to Harry, who was studying her face intensely.  
  
“Hey, Gin,” Harry began, his tone much deeper than it had been earlier. He stepped closer to her, and she took a step back, placing herself between the tree and Harry.   
  
She looked up into his eyes and felt the relaxed comfort of being with Harry, her _friend,_ fade back into the excitement of being with Harry, the man who looked at her like a woman, like he wanted her.  
  
“Yes, Harry?” she said softly, wishing she didn’t sound so breathless.  
  
He put one hand on the tree over her shoulder, leaning closer.  
  
“You said earlier… that you would tell me when to _reach out and grab it_ … remember?” He reached out and touched her now loose hair and fingered the waves as they tumbled down over her shoulder.  
  
Ginny felt the fluttering feeling in her heart fall straight through her torso and settle between her legs. _Were they still talking about Quidditch?_  
  
“Right… you don’t want to reach for it,” she said, playing along as Harry leaned in close enough to kiss her, but instead he barely grazed her jaw line and up to her ear with his lips, breathing against her skin, “until you are sure you’re close enough to take hold of it tightly…”   
  
Harry leaned his body nearer, until his chest was just a breathing space distance from her breasts. His free hand moved to her waist, and he squeezed.   
  
“… because you don’t want to ever let it go, once you’ve caught it.” Ginny tilted her chin upwards, encouraging him to continue to graze her neck with his lips.  
  
“I’ll never let it go, Gin,” Harry said with strained desire in his voice, deliberately dragging his lower lip over her earlobe. His hand that gripped her waist was beginning to pull her close.  
  
Ginny put both her hands along his ribs. She desperately wanted to cling to him, and let the oncoming darkness of night provide cover as they let their desire consume them.  
  
But Ginny had controlled her desires and denied her feelings for years. She wasn’t going to let impatience derail her now.  
  
“Harry,” she said in a stronger voice, clutching at his ribs, “Are you sure about that? I won’t let you say goodbye to me again. You’ll always be my friend, my family, but I won’t do something that makes it miserable for us to be together in my parents’ home again. Never.”  
  
“I, well, Gin,” he stammered, which she took to mean that he hadn’t considered such commitment yet.  
  
She gulped and pulled a nonchalant face. “No. That’s okay. I’ve never asked you to give more than you are willing to, but I’m not a girl anymore. I’m through playing around with my heart. I’ll only give you one chance to kiss me, Harry, and you can’t ever take it back if you do.”  
  
With that, she held her breath and ducked under his arm and walked back towards the twinkling lights of the house.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
Harry thought his heart stopped beating when Ginny walked out of his arms and away from him. He understood why she did it though. She wasn’t one for playing games. He had hurt her too much over the past two years to expect her to get over it in one afternoon.   
  
He would never let her go again. He would show her that he was ready to be with her for good. He would run after that woman and prove it to her.   
  
He would, just as soon as he adjusted his trousers so that he could walk again.  
  
After calming the aching bulge that impeded his pursuit, he followed her. She had gotten so far ahead of him now he was afraid she would be thinking that he wasn’t going to follow her. He couldn’t bear the thought that Ginny would think for even a moment that he didn’t want her. All of her.  
  
He began to run after her, seeing that she was just about to the Burrow’s inner garden. He carefully jumped over small rocks and shrubs that were hidden in the shadow of dusk.  
  
The music from Mr. Weasley’s wireless was growing stronger as he approached. All of Harry’s focus was on the petite redhead, now storming away ahead of him. He barely registered the presence of her family and their whereabouts as he drew closer.  
  
He had to take the one chance Ginny said she’d give him. To call her ante, and kiss her and prove that he didn’t ever want to take it back.   
  
He gained on her quickly, passing through the gate into the garden and overtook her right in the center of the courtyard. He reached out and grabbed her hand, spinning her around and pulling her flush up against him.  
  
“I’ll never say goodbye again; I swear it,” he said, looking into her bright brown eyes. Then Harry wrapped his hand around her back and slowly pulled her up on her toes, while he leaned down to claim her lips with his.   
  
He felt her small hands on his back sliding up to his shoulder blades. Harry felt their magic spark and his heart overflowed with a joy he could never have anticipated. This is what he had been waiting all his life for. As he felt Ginny’s lips press against his, the heartfelt words sung over the wireless settled into his subconscious:  
  
 _At last… My love has come along… My lonely days are over…  
  
_ Harry had never been more grateful for Mr. Weasley’s fondness for gadgets and machines than at that moment.  
  
Harry and Ginny slowly parted, making promises to each other with their eyes and their smiles. Harry knew at last that Ginny was his.  
  
And then Harry felt the air whoosh out of his lungs as he realized where they were and who was surrounding them. With Ginny’s head pressed firmly onto his chest, his chin resting on top of her head, he closed his eyes, imagining several Weasley hexes flying at him - at the very least a shoe aimed at his head.  
  
When none came, he opened his eyes and cautiously looked around him.   
  
He saw Fred and Charlie playing ‘toss the gnome.’ They were stifling chuckles, pretending not to see them, but Fred winked at him.   
  
He saw Bill sitting next to Fleur while she ate at the table. His hand rested on her belly, round with their first child. They were whispering rapidly to each other, and Fleur waved her delicate fingers at him.  
  
He saw Mr. Weasley sitting on the cool grass with his arm around his wife. Mrs. Weasley had one hand pressed over her mouth while using the other to clutch her husband’s shirt. They both looked emotional, but pleased.   
  
Harry needed the approval from one last Weasley: the one, apart from Ginny, that meant the most to him.   
  
Ron and Hermione were swaying to the music a short distance away. Ron held a bottle of butterbeer in one hand while holding Hermione close to him with the other. Hermione’s head rested against his chest and she smiled brightly while her eyes glistened. Ron looked him straight in the eye while he took a slow sip of his butterbeer, and then raised his bottle in the air to Harry, a silent toast. Nodding, he gave Harry a smirk.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, sighing with relief. He pulled Ginny tight once again, causing her to look up at him. He kissed her once more, hoping this evening would never end.  
  
  
~^~^~^ __  
  
A/N: Thank you for all the kind reviews, they mean so much to me!  
  
I thank MrsPadfoot for her pre-beta work and Belovedranger for her awesome beta work.


	3. A Day In the Life

~^~^~  
  
Harry lay on his back with his eyes closed against the sunlight coming in around his window shutters. With one hand behind his head and the other moving under his bed sheet, he thought back to the night before. In his mind’s eye he saw Ginny and watched the way her arse flexed under those cut off jean shorts with each step she took.   
  
His right hand tightened its grip under the sheet as he remembered her moistening her lips with the tip of her pink tongue, and the taste of her neck on his own tongue. Soon, his rhythmic movements kept pace with his pounding heart, and his breathing became irregular.  
  
~^  
  
After her parents had gone to bed and the last of her brothers left – with many grins, winks and eyebrow rising – Harry and Ginny were finally left alone in the garden.   
  
Harry pulled her into his arms and when he bent over to kiss her, he could barely conceal a smile each time he met her welcoming lips. He knew he was grinning rather stupidly.  
  
“What is it? Why do you look at me like that?” she asked, stroking the hair at the nape of his neck with her fingertips.  
  
Harry sighed. “I…” He swallowed hard, the throb in his pants wasn’t the only thing pounding. His heart ached, in the best possible way with what he knew was love. “I can’t believe I’m lucky enough to be with you after all this time. That we’re here together like this…and you are so _beautiful_.”   
  
Ginny laughed, and Harry found he was even besotted by the way the corners of her mouth creased. "Thank you for that, Harry, but I don't know that being with me makes you very lucky," she said, her playful smile turning sincere as she looked into his eyes. "But you are a dream come true for me." _  
_  
While they held each other in the shadow of the lopsided house, he lifted Ginny and sat her on top of the garden wall to ease the strain in his neck.  
  
Once he had her settled at waist level, Harry let Ginny pull him close by the hem of his shirt and he happily found himself standing between her open knees. Her hands slipped under the back of his shirt where she teased him by lightly scratching her nails up his back. He shivered and arched, pressing himself firmly against her. Both of them moaned into the other’s mouth at the close contact. Harry felt the thrilling awareness of becoming thoroughly bewitched.   
  
“I’ve missed you so much,” Ginny whispered between desperate kisses. “You promise you’re not going to regret this tomorrow? The next time I see you, you won’t tell me this was a mistake?”  
  
“ _No way,_ I swear.” Harry pulled back to look into her eyes. He brushed her hair back off of her face and leaned his forehead against hers, panting to catch his breath. “I really want this, Gin. Me and you together. There’s nothing stopping us anymore.”  
  
Ginny kicked off her shoes and wrapped her legs around him. Her toes brushed against the back of his inner thigh, awakening the yearnings he’d denied for too long.   
  
This girl, this _woman_ , who belonged to his adopted family, was a guilty pleasure he wouldn’t deny. No longer grinning, he wanted to indulge in some serious snogging with the witch he’d been dreaming of for years.  
  
Harry’s hands gripped her waist and slid up her sides until the heels of his palms felt the swell of her breasts. He let one hand slide up her back and into the hair at the base of her neck as he angled his head in the opposite direction and continued exploring her mouth with his own. His tongue met hers gently, learning her all over again.  
  
Harry’s thumb instinctively began to circle in its spot near her breast, gliding over the side and stopping so close, but just short of stroking over the hardened center he knew he’d find.   
  
They broke their kiss, smiling at each other, acknowledging the action of his hand. Suddenly, in one day, after ten minutes of kissing and exploring with braver hands than they had before, they had caught up to the stage of intimacy they had reached two years earlier. From here on, all further exploration would be new territory for them.  
  
“Quit thinking so much, Harry,” Ginny said, holding him close and looking into his eyes. “It only gets you into trouble.”  
  
Harry smirked and dropped both hands down to the sides of her rear-end and squeezed.   
  
“But I think I rather like the idea of getting into trouble with you, Gin.”  
  
“Do you? My Proper Potter, thinking naughty, is he?” she said, wriggling her bum under his grasp.  
  
“Since the minute I saw you this morning. And these,” he said, gripping the underside of her thighs and letting his fingertips slip under the frayed edge of her denim shorts, “these have been distracting me all day.”  
  
“Hmm,” she said, tilting her head back, letting Harry kiss her neck lightly, “and I thought I was the only one distracted today.”  
  
“Yeah? Were you thinking of me?” He couldn’t help the amusement in his voice. “Is that what happened with the spilled pumpkin juice this morning?”  
  
Ginny did laugh at this, digging her fingernails into his sides, tickling him. “I thought I covered well enough for that. So you noticed?”  
  
Harry quickly pulled away from her tickling hands and laughed with her. “Oh I definitely noticed. Was that really because of me?”  
  
“Oh, Harry,” Ginny sighed, running her hands through his hair and down to his shoulders, pulling him close again. “You daft wizard. It’s always been you.” When they kissed this time - small, tender kisses, looking into each other’s eyes - he could feel that this was no school romance: this was real.  
  
~^  
  
Harry clenched his teeth, not letting any sound of shoddy self-pleasure escape his lips as his hand under the sheet slowed to a jerky halt.  
  
He sighed in disbelief at himself. For all the mess he'd just made, he couldn't believe that he'd had a wank as soon as he got home the night before.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
Harry pulled his t-shirt on over his head as he entered the kitchen. Contented thoughts that at long last Ginny Weasley was his girl were swirling through his head. The next time he saw her, he could hold her and kiss her and… He changed his line of thinking when he saw Ron sitting at the table.   
  
He was reading the Quibbler, with the remains of his breakfast spread out in front of him. Ron wasn’t looking at Harry, but Harry could see right away that Ron was covering up a grin. His lips were twitching, and his eyebrows were raised slightly.  
  
Harry wondered how much he could get away with here. He wasn’t going to say anything about Ginny until Ron made him. Though by the gleam in his best friend’s eye, he didn’t expect to get out of it for long.  
  
“Morning,” Harry mumbled, shuffling past Ron.   
  
“ _Good_ morning, Harry!” Ron said in an exaggerated cheerful voice.   
  
Harry groaned and shook his head, now knowing what was in store for him. He served himself a plate of eggs and sausage from the stove.   
  
“Soooo? What’s new with you?” Ron continued in his exuberant tone. Harry grunted, trying to summon the strength to control the heat rising in his face. “How was your night? You came home pretty late, I didn’t even hear you.”   
  
Harry at least knew that Ron was pleased. He wouldn’t be teasing like this if he were the least bit upset about he and Ginny being together. Harry decided to play it cool though.  
  
“Well, you wouldn’t have heard me,” he said as he sat down at the table, “what with the Silencing Charm that was on your bedroom door.” _Touché,_ Harry thought, pleased with himself; this time he could see Ron’s face flush out of the corner of his eye.   
  
Harry was actually grateful they had remembered the Silencing Charm: he always had a difficult time looking them in the face the next day when they forgot.  
  
“Mind yourself, Casanova,” Ron teased. “ _I’m_ respectably married.”  
  
“You weren’t always respectably married,” Harry said, through a mouthful of eggs, which earned him a shove in the shoulder.  
  
“But really, mate, you and Ginny, yeah? For real this time?”  
  
“Yeah, I think so… I hope so.” Harry nodded, glad that he and Ron had grown up at least enough to discuss such things.  
  
“You know, I think you two have a bit of an exhibition hang up. Try a little privacy, man. I mean right there, in the garden in front of everyone.” Ron’s eyes twinkled.  
  
“I know. It wasn’t planned that way.” Harry chuckled to himself. While he sipped his coffee, he remembered the panic that had washed over him as Ginny walked away from him. He had promised her, hadn’t he, that he would never let her go? He suddenly felt that panicked need to see her again, to hold her and make sure he hadn’t dreamed everything that had happened yesterday.  
  
“Really though, I’m happy for you two, and it’s about damn time anyway.” Ron was interrupted by the sound of Hermione coming down the stairs. He leaned over to Harry, and spoke in a low, quiet voice. “Now I’ve got to warn you, mate, Hermione’s _really_ excited over this little development. She hasn’t let up about it since the public snog last night.”  
  
“She is? Why?” Harry asked, taking another drink of coffee.  
  
But Harry didn’t have the chance to find out. He looked up and before he could say ‘good morning’ to her, he found himself in a lively choke hold-like embrace by Hermione.  
  
“Har- _ry_!” she fairly squealed as his coffee sloshed onto the table. “I’m so happy!”   
  
“Ugh, Hermione.” Harry chuckled. He tried to give her arm a quick a squeeze and let go, but she continued holding him tight. His arm hitched awkwardly so that he couldn’t move. He just hung there, helpless and at her mercy. “All right, how long are we going to do this?”  
  
“I warned you….” Ron said in a playful voice from behind his paper.  
  
Hermione finally released him with a sigh and sat down next to him. A huge smile played on her face while she folded her hands in her lap. “Now, I want you to tell me everything. How did it happen yesterday?”  
  
“You saw everything,” Ron interjected. “They didn’t make it a secret, did they?”  
  
“Oh hush, I want to hear this. Come on, Harry, tell us?”  
  
Harry was torn between wanting to share his own excitement about Ginny with Hermione and being afraid of speaking too confidently about it. The irrational worry that it might not have been real was still lurking in the back of his mind.  
  
“Well, I guess it sort of just happened naturally. I mean, we would’ve been together a long time ago, but she had to finish school, right?”  
  
“But you’ve hardly talked about her this past year. Was this a surprise?”  
  
“Come on Hermione, leave him be,” Ron said gently as he poured her a cup of coffee, his free hand stroking behind her ear as he spoke.   
  
Harry delighted in the subtle, yet intimate way Ron and Hermione touched each other. It was so casual now; they didn’t even think about. He didn’t feel jealousy, but _admiration_ for his what his friends had discovered in each other. He had come close to something like it with Ginny before, but at that time there were constant limitations on how far they could go.   
  
He frowned thoughtfully and focused on Hermione again. “No, not a surprise exactly, but it wasn’t a sure thing. I never forgot about her, but I couldn’t very well talk about her while I was with Shannon.” Harry winced slightly. “Of course, she was seeing that duffer at school too, so there wasn’t any point in carrying on about it.”  
  
“Oh yes, _Shannon_ ,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes. “I still can’t believe you spent so much time with her – honestly.” Ron sniggered while he set a plate of breakfast in front of her.  
  
“Why? You never said anything against her before. You didn’t like her?” Harry asked.  
  
“Oh she was ridiculous, Harry. It was like seeing you with Tonks! Totally wrong for you.”   
  
Harry and Ron exchanged a look over Hermione’s head and had to avoid grinning. Hermione wasn't wrong in her comparison of Shannon to Tonks, but she just didn't know about the sorts of inappropriate things he and Ron used to say about Tonks when they were younger boys. Shannon had been no great love for Harry, agreed, but she was at least a bit of a fantasy come true.  
  
“Yeah, she was all wrong for me. You are absolutely right, Hermione.” Harry said it with such sincerity that Hermione had no idea that he was really being sardonic. Ron didn’t miss the tone though. He kissed Hermione on the side of the head and winked at Harry.  
  
“So, are you seeing each other today? What’s going on?” she asked.  
  
“Well, Gin and her mum are going to Diagon Alley today. I have some rounds to do anyway, check up on people, so I thought I’d see her there.”   
  
After Hedwig had been killed last winter, Harry had discovered that several vendors in Diagon Alley had also suffered random acts of torment. The Ministry officials were not able to do much more than to take an _official complaint_ and they didn’t believe there was any connection between the cases. Harry’s instinct told him otherwise.   
  
“Okay, I’ll get ready to go,” Ron said, standing up.  
  
“What? No. You don’t have to come with me.” Harry was annoyed that Ron still felt the need to look after him.  
  
“Nah, I want to go to Quality Quidditch Supplies anyway,” Ron said casually, beginning to silently _Tergeo_ all the dirty dishes on the table.  
  
“I don’t need your escort, Ron. I can manage. I do carry a wand, you know? And I haven’t forgotten how to use it. Besides, with Ginny and I being together now…” Harry swallowed and adjusted his glasses. “I thought I should go try to talk to George… if he’ll see me.”   
  
Hermione gave Ron an anxious look, and he seemed to agree with her feeling. “Yeah, then I’m definitely coming.”  
  
“Seriously, Ron, I should do this alone.”  
  
“Seriously, Harry? I’m still coming.” He could see that Ron was resolute; there would be no changing his mind.  
  
~^~^~^  
  
Harry and Ron were able to get through The Leaky Cauldron without too much ado. They only had to accept one free drink from Tom the barman, and accept two toasts in their honor.   
  
Next they wandered Diagon Alley, in search of Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. Ron walked just a step ahead of Harry, flanking his right from passers by. The cover worked most of the time. Ron’s tall frame and bright red hair attracted enough attention. Some people remembered the freckle-faced boy standing next to Harry Potter in the photos taken at the end of the war. Others, those who were Quidditch enthusiasts, would recognize him as the new reserve Keeper for the Chudley Cannons.   
  
Ron provided just enough distraction as they hurried passed that many people didn’t notice the slightly smaller, dark haired young man, who avoided eye contact whenever possible. The wizarding world was very generous these days. Those who did recognize Harry usually only offered a friendly handshake and words of thanks and praise.  
  
They had already checked in on a handful of vendors along their way, and none had anything to report in the way of unusual or harassing experiences.  
  
The next shop they entered was Quality Quidditch Supplies. They went unnoticed by the group of lads gawking at the window display. Upon entering however, they noticed another group of boys inside.   
  
Harry immediately ducked behind a cardboard advertisement showing a busty witch in mini-robes astride the latest model of broomstick.  
  
Ron strode forward down the center aisle, allowing Harry to make his way back to the counter unnoticed.  
  
“Blimey, it’s Ron Weasley!” Harry heard one of the boy’s say. He peeked through the large cage full of fluttering Snitches to see who was addressing Ron.  
  
“Err- yeah, that’s me,” Ron said hesitantly, looking down at a group of preadolescents who were looking up at him with wide eyes.   
  
“I know you!” the same enthusiast little voice said. “You’re with the Chudley Cannons. I heard that you’ll be starting soon because Redwald Blake is getting so old and blind he doesn’t even see half the goals he misses.”  
  
“Ah, that’s just a rumor, kid. Old Blake is still holding up all right.” Ron was a healthy shade of crimson, but he seemed amused by his titchy admirers.   
  
“You have the most impressive stats of your reserve season,” the blond haired boy went on, causing the others to gape on in awe. “When you become a first teamer, it’s expected that you’ll double the Cannons’ chances at going to the Cup.”  
  
“I wouldn’t hold your breath on that one,” Ron said, now talking in earnest with the pint size fellows just as though he were in a pub with men.  
  
“Will you autograph my _Which Broomstick,_ sir?” another boy asked. Ron chewed the inside of his cheek as the group presented him with an assortment of tatty Quaffles, magazines and even an old Cannons’ program to sign. It wasn’t the very first time he’d been asked for an autograph, but this was still very new to him.   
  
“Is it true that you were with Harry Potter during the war?” the tallest boy among them asked. Harry shifted nervously in his spot.  
  
“Oh, that. Yeah, I sure was,” Ron agreed with sincerity, shifting on his feet as well. Having the memory of their final battles suddenly thrust at him was never comfortable.  
  
“Is he really as great as they say he is, sir? Is he taller than you even?”   
  
Ron tried his best not to laugh too loud. “Harry Potter? Actually, the git just looks like any other bloke, fellas.” Taking note of their crestfallen faces, Ron amended his response. “But I’ve known him for a long time, and even average blokes can do pretty amazing things, yeah?” They seemed pleased to hear this.   
  
“He was the best Seeker Hogwarts ever had, wasn’t he?”  
  
“No, he wasn’t,” another boy piped up. “My brother was at Hogwarts when Harry Potter was, and he said Potter always fell off his broom.”  
  
“Who was your brother then?” Ron asked.  
  
“Martin Chambers. He played for Ravenclaw”   
  
Ron snorted. “Oh, him. I played against him once. Well, my mate does have a hard time avoiding a Bludger - saved him from a few yesterday as a matter of fact.” Ron waggled his eyebrows in Harry’s direction. Harry only shook his head; apparently Ron wasn’t forgetting how distracted he’d been by Ginny during their pick up match at the Burrow.  
  
“I’m Gordon Whitby, sir,” a new boy with a tiny voice said. The rest had begun to walk off, enthralled by their new prized autographs.  
  
“How are ya, Gordon Whitby?” Ron asked, taking the junior regulation Quaffle and self-inking quill the boy was holding out to him.   
  
“Mr. Weasley…?” The boy looked back at the others, appearing nervous, as though he wanted to say something without being over heard.  
  
“What’s up, mate?” Ron asked, stooping over towards him. Harry couldn’t hear what the boy said this time, for he was so quiet. But Ron gave him a sober smile and nodded before tousling his curly head.  
  
The temporary amusement that the group had found in Ron then passed as the boys turned their attention back to broomstick charms. Ron continued up the aisle to the back of the store, meeting Harry at the counter.  
  
“ _Mr. Weasley, sir, can I have your autograph too!_ ” Harry said in a boyish falsetto voice.  
  
“Ha, ha. Sod off, you. Did I goad you about Colin Creevey?”  
  
“Yes, as a matter of fact you did, ya great arse. And you caused our dorm mates to do it too.”  
  
Ron chuckled. “Oh yeah, that was great.”  
  
“So, what’d the little bloke want?” Harry asked, nodding towards the youngsters now leaving the store. Ron turned and watched them with a contemplative look. He scratched at his neck before speaking.  
  
“He, uh, thanked me for helping you in the war. Asked me to pass it along to you. Seems his family had a hard go of things from Death Eaters.”   
  
Harry felt like he choked on a Snitch. He knew intellectually that the war against Voldemort had affected many people aside from him, but sometimes he forgot. It always felt like such a personal curse, literally and figuratively.   
  
“Oy –forget about it,” Ron said, nudging him out of his thoughts. “Don’t waste your time on the old shite. Let’s deal with the new shite, okay?” Harry worked up a feeble smile in agreement.   
  
Mr. Osgoode, the proprietor, returned to greet them. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, welcome lads, welcome. I’m so very glad to see you: I have some news.”  
  
~^~^~^  
  
After Harry and Ron left Quality Quidditch Supplies, their minds heavy with the news that Mr. Osgoode had shared with them, it wasn’t long before they found Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. The women were just leaving Madam Malkin’s shop, their arms full, and levitating a basket along behind them.  
  
All that was on Harry’s mind a moment before suddenly vanished when he saw Ginny. She seemed to glow and make everything around her pale compared to her beauty. That magnetic pull towards her tugged in his belly, and he didn’t feel the least bit shy about taking hold of her tiny frame and kissing her soundly, even right in front of Mrs. Weasley and Ron. He had decided to do exactly that when Ron put a firm hand on his shoulder and slowed him down.   
  
“Just a minute, mate. It’s all your business of course, but before you go over there and act like a niffler with a hard-on, you better decide if you want to announce to the world that _Harry Potter_ is going with that _Weasley girl_. It’ll be in print in a newt’s eye, if you do.”  
  
“Bloody hell… you’re right, I reckon,” Harry mumbled, his shoulders sagging. Then he jabbed Ron in the side with his elbow. “And hard-on aside, I never act like niffler.”  
  
“Whoa.” Ron laughed with mock surprise and flicked the back of Harry’s head. “You’re becoming a right cheeky bastard, you know it?”  
  
They were approaching the women as Harry shot back playfully, “Yeah well, there’s this lot of filthy mouthed ginger-heads I know that have taught me well.”   
  
Ginny and Mrs. Weasley both looked up at the same time, the pleasant surprise of Harry and Ron’s arrival evident in their expressions.  
  
Harry felt the previous night’s stupid grin take over his face when Ginny’s eyes met his.   
  
“Hi, Harry,” she said as she took a step towards him. But instead of reaching him, she found herself in a clumsy half hug by Ron, who had quickly moved between her and Harry.  
  
“ _Ron_?” she said, perplexed.  
  
“Sorry, little sister,” he said, kissing her on the forehead. “That’s from Harry. We thought it best not to bring any attention to you two out here in the open.”  
  
“Oh right. I see.” She nodded, winking at Harry. He liked the way her nose crinkled when she winked at him.  
  
Mrs. Weasley greeted each of them as though she hadn’t just seen them the day before.   
  
“Hi. Sorry, Gin,” Harry said as he reached for the brown paper wrapped packages she held, clasping her hand in his underneath the bundles. “I wouldn’t have kissed your forehead, but that’s all Ron could handle of course,” he whispered with a smile.  
  
“I should hope so- I’ve got better parts than my forehead for you to kiss,” she whispered back, squeezing his fingers as the parcels toppled into Harry’s arms. He was pleased to hear she was thinking the same things he was.  
  
He was reluctant to release her hand, but had to in order to play off a casual appearance between them. He already knew passers by were beginning to recognize him.  
  
Harry was accustomed to the feeling of eyes lingering on him for a second longer than was polite and seeing people whisper just as he passed. It didn’t bother him a great deal when he was with Ron, who had become a bit of a public figure himself. But now, the possibility of drawing unwanted attention to Ginny suddenly burgeoned a fierce feeling of protectiveness in him.   
  
“Will you boys be coming for supper tonight?” Mrs. Weasley asked.  
  
“No, Mum. Hermione has paperwork to do tonight, so I’m cooking supper for her. I’ve got an early practice tomorrow as well.”   
  
“Ron’s cooking? I’m in!” Ginny spoke up quickly. She and Harry exchanged a knowing glance with each other. At Ron, Hermione and Harry’s house they might be able to find some much desired private time. “I’m sorry, Mum, but you don’t mind if I go there for the evening, do you? You think you and Dad will be okay in an empty house all by yourselves?”  
  
Much to Harry’s surprise, Mrs. Weasley didn’t pause in giving her consent. “Oh that would be lovely, dear. Your father and I will find _something_ to do. Don’t you worry about us.”  
  
Ginny snickered, but Harry thought he must have missed the joke. He hadn’t been paying full attention to what was spoken because he had been peering at the hint of cleavage he could see down Ginny’s blouse. Her blouse revealed nothing at all inappropriate, but it didn’t keep him from looking.  
  
“Just Floo over later when you’re done, Gin,” Ron said.  
  
“Thanks,” she said to Ron. She turned to Harry. “I can’t wait.”  
  
“Well now, that’s settled,” Mrs. Weasley agreed. “Harry, I think you should stop in and see Madam Malkin. She asked about you several times.” This news brought his attention away from imagining what lay under Ginny’s blouse.  
  
“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. Ron and I will go there now,” Harry said. He returned the packages back to Ginny, brushing his thumb over her knuckles as he did so.  
  
Harry walked away from Ginny with a light heart and her fresh smell dominating his senses. Yet, as he had done so often, he took a deep breath and banished his thoughts of her to the back of his mind. He had to focus on the rest of his day’s work. There were people who counted on him for assistance, and others still who hated him.  
  
~^~^~^  
 _  
A/N: I thank MrsPadfoot for always taking the time to help me learn to be a better writer, and BelovedRanger, whose beta work makes this a much better story - no joke. Allipotter, I give you the niffler. Please take the time to leave a comment - thank you!!_


	4. Every Little Thing

~^~^~^~^~  
  
  
Ginny watched Harry follow Ron down the busy streets.   
  
She marveled at Harry’s courtesy with the strangers around him. He was trying to avoid unwanted, and what he felt was _unwarranted_ attention, but he was always respectful. He would shake the hands that were offered and humbly accept the praise and thanks showered upon him.  
  
To Ginny, who had grown up in a sea of russet hair, tanned freckles and gawky limbs, Harry’s tousled raven locks and deep green eyes were strikingly handsome.   
  
Ginny didn’t realize she was staring until her mother put an arm around her shoulder and leaned her head against Ginny’s temple, watching the two young men.  
  
Ginny looked at her mother’s twinkling eyes and huffed at herself in annoyance.  
  
“Mum, what’s happened to me? I’ve become _completely_ ridiculous again! Why do I let him do this to me?” Ginny rolled her eyes, and shook her head.  
  
Mrs. Weasley laughed gently. “He has grown into a handsome young man, hasn’t he?”  
  
“Lawks! Did you see his eyes? Have they always been so green? It’s as if he can see right into my soul - and it’s _not_ Legilimency. I don’t know what it is….”  
  
“Hmm,” Mrs. Weasley acknowledged as they began walking again.  
  
“Did you see how well his robes hung off his shoulders? He’s nearly as broad as Ron now. When did that happen?”  
  
“He’s taller, yes, and he eats better now that he’s not under so much strain.” Her mother seemed to think it perfectly ducky to see her so rapt.   
  
“And this reminds me of something; Yesterday, Harry said something that made me laugh -and I _tossed my hair back_! My _hair,_ Mum! What in Morgan’s Green Garden is that? It’s like I’m watching myself in a Pensieve, and I don’t know who I am.” Ginny dramatically thumped her head forward on the stack of packages she held in her arms.  
  
“Are you saying that you don’t think you behave like yourself when you are with Harry?” Mrs. Weasley gently prodded.   
  
Ginny pursed her lips and crinkled her nose. “No, that’s not really it,” she said, considering the question. “Actually, I feel _more_ myself with him. I feel like I could do or say anything in front of him.” Ginny’s eyebrows rose suddenly. “Oh! Like this here –will you look at this?” Ginny produced the piece of parchment from the inner lining of her robe.   
  
“What is this?” Mrs. Weasley asked, clearly amused at her addled daughter.  
  
“ _This_ is a letter that Harry sent me before I left school,” Ginny said in a quiet, condemning voice. “I carry it with me every day. I’m _hopeless_ ; I’ve gone barmy.”   
  
Mrs. Weasley chuckled and patted Ginny’s hand over the parchment. “I don’t see that as something to be alarmed about. I’ve saved many rolls your father has Owled me over the years. Witches have been saving love letters forever - since the beginning of love letters.”  
  
“But it’s not a _love_ letter! That’s the problem: it’s just a couple of barely legible lines saying that the three of them would be coming to my leaving school picnic. It’s not the least bit romantic.” Ginny stuffed the parchment back into her robe, and they continued walking.  
  
“But you know what is romantic?” Mrs. Weasley said, combing down Ginny’s hair.  
  
“…What?” Ginny asked, with exaggerated despair.  
  
“That you carry it in your pocket. _That,_ my darling daughter, is _romantic._ ” Mrs. Weasley gently shook Ginny’s chin between her thumb and forefinger and smiled brightly.  
  
Ginny mock gagged at her mother and then giggled with her.  
  
“Mum, did you see how _green_ his eyes were?”  
  
~^~^~^~  
  
Harry and Ron stared at the front windows of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. The blinking sign and window displays were as distracting as always, and possibly brighter than ever. What was now different was that the windows were no longer blocked from view by those enormous twinkling advertisement banners.   
  
Clearing the windows of advertisements that had obscured the view from outside had been one of the first security measures put into place after the attack.  
  
Ron and Harry could see the brother proprietors inside, demonstrating a gag charm that appeared to reverse your face with the back of your head.   
  
“You sure about this?” Ron asked Harry while they watched George turn his back to the crowd, facing them.  
  
“Yeah. I should have come sooner, if I hadn’t been such a coward.”  
  
“Oh shut it. George is the one being an arsehole, and you know it.”  
  
“Yeah, maybe he is, but he wasn’t wrong either.”  
  
Ron made an irritated puffing sound with his lips. “Whatever you say. I’m not going to argue it anymore. Let’s just go and get it over with.”  
  
“Right.”  
  
When they entered the store, customers were clapping a brief applause as ginger hair suddenly grew over George’s face as it returned to the back of his head again. When he turned around, George saw Harry and Ron standing behind the crowd and for just a moment Harry thought he looked like he was going to smile when he recognized them. But that fleeting second passed just as quickly, and the jovial grin was replaced with pursed lips that resembled his mother’s.  
  
They approached the twins as they were gathering empty boxes and display items from the table in front of them.   
  
“Hello, lads! How’s it flying?” Fred asked, smiling, while his eyes shifted from George to Harry.  
  
“Hi,” Harry and Ron said together.  
  
“Hello, Ron, good to see you,” said George as he turned with his arms full and headed toward the stock room.   
  
“Hey now, George!”   
  
“Come on, you tosser,” Fred and Ron chided in unison. **  
  
**“Don’t worry about it, fellas,” Harry muttered. He took a deep breath and followed after George.  
  
As Harry followed in his pursuit, he looked around at the store. He hadn’t seen it remodeled since the attack almost a year ago.  
  
It was not long after the war had ended when Harry had called an Order meeting. While Fred and George attended, they had entrusted Lee Jordan to close up the joke shop for them. When the twins had returned that evening, they found their store wrecked and their friend near death.  
  
“ _Employees only_ ,” George said over his shoulder as he flicked his wand at a sign bearing the same words.   
  
Harry set his jaw and squared his shoulders as he followed him through the door, putting up a Shield Charm to keep a flock of yellow canaries from attacking his head - Hermione’s contribution to the store’s security.  
  
“Look George, I won’t take up much of your time,” Harry started, but was cut short.  
  
“Fred told me about you and Ginny getting off at the house yesterday. You don’t need to ask for my blessing.”  
  
Harry felt his temperature rise.   
  
“Well actually, you arrogant git, I’m not here for your permission. If you’d bothered to speak to me for the past year, then _maybe_. But as it is, I don’t much care if you approve of me dating your sister.”   
  
There. Harry was feeling rather proud for having more bollocks than he’d realized.  
  
George looked up suddenly at Harry, his _expression devoid of any particular emotion, a dangerous sign in one of the twins. Harry knew that with George’s quick wit, he had a ready reply. But instead, his face broke into a frustrated and defeated smile.  
  
He gave Harry a sidelong glance, and looked away again, looking very much like Ron when embarrassed.  
  
“You deserve my apologies, Harry. I treated you wrong.”   
  
Harry’s indignant feelings towards his once good friend quickly melted away, but the hurt of his hateful words on that night still lingered:  
  
 _“He’s dying in there, Harry! He was tortured and he’s dying, and it’s all your fault! They were after us, because of you! My dad, my brothers; how many times are the people I love going to risk death because of helping you? Even your own parents died because of you!”  
  
_ Harry’s blood had been chilled by George’s cold and grief stricken words. He never faulted George for what he said outside of Lee’s hospital room that night. It had been almost a relief to finally hear a Weasley admit to the burden he was to the family. Ron and Remus and even Fred, who had been terribly upset himself, tried to calm George down to no avail.   
  
Later that night he had found himself knocking on the door of the young woman who worked with Tonks. That was the first night he had spent away from Ron and Hermione in a very long time. He stayed in Shannon’s bed that night, far from everyone he loved.  
  
Harry didn’t want to dwell on the haunting memory for too long. He had actually come here with a purpose.  
  
“I appreciate that, mate, really. How is Lee?”   
  
George seemed to consider this carefully.  
  
“He’s not bad, always getting better. He’s home from St. Mungo’s now. Of course, you probably knew that?” Harry nodded. George seemed to be struggling with how exactly to explain Lee’s recovery.   
  
“He’s come a long way. He’s walking and talking and only shows a few side effects of the curses.” George was clearly uncomfortable with the topic, but he also spoke with a nurse’s neutral detachment. This was fitting, as George had spent every moment that he was not needed at the shop at the hospital, looking after Lee.   
  
“He’s going bats at his mum’s place, though. Wants to get back to work and live in his own place again.”  
  
“Yeah, I can understand that,” Harry agreed. “He doesn’t, by any chance, remember, does he? Any details to tell us?”  
  
George shook his head. “Oh, I wish. If we could ever find who did that…” There was an ominous tone to George’s aimless threat.  
  
“Hey, mate.” Harry was hesitant. “I’ve got some things I think you ought to know about, but are you and I all right now? You’ll start coming around the house again when I’m there?”  
  
George looked a bit chagrined, but nodded his head.   
  
“Yeah. Yeah, you know I did want to come to Ginny’s party, but I didn’t think I should leave Lee alone. He still needs help with some things.”  
  
“You can always bring him, you know? We all like Lee.”  
  
George just shrugged.   
  
“Maybe, someday…”  
  
  
~^~^~^~^~  
  
Harry was setting the table for four later that evening and Ron was offering Hermione a sample of pasta sauce from his ladle, when the Floo burned green and Ginny stepped gracefully out of the fireplace.  
  
Harry locked eyes with her as he set the silverware down.   
  
“Hi, Gin.”  
  
“Hello, Ginny.” Ron and Hermione each greeted her. **  
**  
“Hello,” she said, without taking her eyes off Harry as she walked towards him. He couldn’t wait to cover the short distance between them, though suddenly the modest kitchen felt as expansive as the Great Hall.  
  
Harry had wanted to feel her under his hands since the moment they separated the night before and now, _now,_ she was.  
  
She clasped her hands behind his neck and her lips readily met his, both of them still smiling. Harry lifted her just off the ground, leaving her standing on her toes. He loved how the weight of her tiny frame rested against his body. This was as close to perfection as he could imagine, while standing fully dressed in the kitchen with Ron and Hermione.   
  
He quickly banished thoughts of how well their bodies fit together. He didn’t fancy having to sit through the meal with constricting pants twisting around his swollen tackle.   
  
Harry heard a distant “ _blegh_ ” from Ron, in a sarcastic tone he knew well. Harry decided his best friend could go hang for all he cared, and he released one hand from Ginny’s waist long enough to raise a two-finger salute at Ron behind Ginny’s back.   
  
Hermione tutted.  
  
“Don’t mind us, we’ll just start with the salad,” Ron grumbled dramatically. Hermione shushed him, but he continued. “No, carry on, really. I rather enjoy watching my kid sister getting off while I eat.”  
  
Their kiss broke when they both laughed. Ginny rubbed her thumb over Harry’s lip, and they shared a look that seemed to express their mutual thoughts: they were not quite done with _this_ for the night.  
  
“Wanker,” and “Bastard,” Harry and Ginny muttered simultaneously, when they turned towards Ron. **  
**  
Once the four of them sat down for dinner, the two young women began discussing Ginny’s shopping trip that afternoon. It was only when Harry heard Ginny mention the new dress she was wearing that he even noticed. Apparently it was a “teal green A-line dress, with a scoop neck” -whatever that was. He had noted her curves and valleys the moment he saw her of course, but he wouldn’t have noticed the material covering them otherwise.  
  
“It is a nice dress. You look great,” Harry offered, trying to be an observant boyfriend. He knew that men were supposed to notice these things, having seen Ron suffer the consequences of not doing so.  
  
Ginny patted his knee under the table and smiled at him.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes.   
  
“Amateur,” he muttered.  
  
Harry scowled at him, glancing at the girls who were deep in conversation, before making a wanking gesture in return.  
  
Ron grinned proudly and took another bite.  
  
“How’re things at the house, Ginny?” Ron asked, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation about women’s clothing.  
  
Ginny raised her eyebrows and toggled her head side to side, considering his question.  
  
“Pretty good. Fine. Quiet. Odd, actually,” said Ginny, a faint pink tint rising in her cheeks as she seemed to be concealing something.  
  
“Why? What do you mean?” asked Ron. Suspicion was in his voice, almost concern.   
  
“Mum’s been aces actually; we’ve been getting on well. I only see Dad at breakfast and dinner. I hardly see him the rest of the time.”  
  
“Why’s that?”  
  
Ginny grinned and looked around at the three of them warily before continuing.  
  
“The truth is, those two are the randiest old buggers you’ve ever seen.”  
  
Harry laughed. Hermione looked scandalized and giggled behind her napkin.  
  
Ron rolled his eyes, pulling a face but looking relieved. “Yeah, well that’s _rank_ , but nothing new, is it?” He took another bite and shook his head.  
  
“No, this is different, Ron. They have a lie in every morning. Mum doesn’t wake me for morning chores – _I’ve_ been feeding the chickens.”  
  
“ _At dawn_?” Ron looked appalled. Harry knew how he hated getting up to feed those ruddy chickens.  
  
“ _Yes_. It’s a wonder they hadn’t starved before I came home from school. Then every evening after dinner, they go for these long walks, and when they return –well, they try to cover it up, but they are clearly disheveled. Once, I plucked a leaf out of Mum’s hair.”  
  
“Aw, bloody-” Ron exclaimed, putting his fork down in disgust.  
  
“I’m telling you, I think those two are at it constantly.”  
  
“All right, that’s it. No more,” Ron protested, waving his hands at her. “I can’t handle any more of this talk.” He looked wistfully at his dinner as though it were spoiled.  
  
“I think it’s sweet really,” Hermione said, her eyes glistening from laughing at Ginny’s tale and Ron’s reaction. “It’s a comfort knowing how passionate they are at their age.”  
  
“Can we not say ‘passionate’ about my folks, please?” Ron whined.  
  
“It is pretty cool, really,” Harry said. “I’m proud of your dad. I mean he’s not dead yet, so why not?”  
  
After they finished their meal, Ginny sat forward and picked up the half empty bottle of wine off the table.  
  
“Do you want some help cleaning up?” Ginny asked with a sly grin, in a way that was clearly _not_ an offer to do so.   
  
“As a matter of fact,” Ron began, looking overly offended.  
  
“No, of course not,” Hermione said, nudging Ron’s shoulder. “You are our guest, Ginny.”  
  
“She’s no _guest_ ,” Ron huffed. “She’s _Ginny_.”  
  
Harry bit his lip. He felt he really ought to help with the dishes, but he wanted to be alone with Ginny more.  
  
“That’s too bad then, Ron,” Ginny said smartly. “If I _were_ your guest I would help with the clean up, but as I’m just your ruddy sister I have no problem leaving you to it.” She gave him a saucy wink and turned away from the table, bottle of wine in hand. “Harry, grab our glasses would you?”  
  
Harry bore a shameless smile as he snagged their goblets and followed her out of the kitchen.  
  
~^~  
  
Ginny made her way down the hall and into Harry’s room, though she had never been in there before. He knew it was silly to feel nervous about going into his own bedroom. He lived here, dressed here. He slept and wanked in this room, and yet the simple presence of Ginny made him self-conscious. He had always been in Ginny’s home, in the rooms in her house.   
  
Now, here he found himself looking around warily for any sign of dingy under shorts on the floor. He wanted her to approve of how he lived.  
  
“Hmm, very tidy, Harry. I’m impressed,” Ginny said with a sparkle in her eye. Except for a pile of clothes on the trunk at the end of his bed and the bed itself that was unmade, the room wasn’t in bad shape at all.  
  
“Sorry,” Harry said, moving to straighten the sheet and blanket that were tangled together. “I usually only make the bed up once a week.” Harry gave the duvet a shake, letting it billow in the air before settling more smoothly across the bed.  
  
“Look at you,” Ginny said, giggling.  
  
“What?” Harry asked, wiping his mouth in case he had a spot of sauce on his face.  
  
“After all the incredible magical things you’ve done in your life – _most powerful wizard_ and all that, you still make your bed the Muggle way.”  
  
“Oh right,” Harry said sheepishly. “I just forget sometimes.”  
  
“Besides, you don’t need to fix it up on my account. We may just toss it about again anyway…” Ginny said, her voice full of innuendo.   
  
Harry quickly let go of his grip on the duvet, and his face brightened.   
  
“Yeah?” He walked to her and swiftly scooped her up, nearly lifting her off her feet. “What have you got in mind, Miss Weasley?” he asked, before leaning down to kiss her. They gently sucked on each other’s lips, and then their tongues met with the slightest reserve.   
  
He felt her shiver, causing goose flesh to rise on her arms and leaving her nipples tight against him. It thrilled him to elicit such a response in her.  
  
Harry slowly backed up against the bed, all but dragging her with him. She managed to set the wine on the bedside table, and when his legs met the back of the bed, he sat, lifting Ginny and depositing her onto his lap. Ginny’s knees straddled his waist with her feet tucked behind her.   
  
The action felt so natural, and once done, Harry felt the throbbing in his shorts growing immodestly to life. Once Ginny was sitting astride Harry, her skirt rose high on her thighs. Just knowing that it was open was enough to make him shift his hips against her.   
  
“Hmm, brilliant,” Harry muttered between kisses as Ginny let her weight now rest fully in his lap. “I don’t know how I ever let you get away from me. Must have been mad…”  
  
“Yes, you were quite stupid.”  
  
They chuckled together. Ginny kissed his forehead while he looked down, right into the cleavage he could conveniently view at this close angle.  
  
Ginny kissed him again and this time leaned her body into Harry’s, causing him to lie back on the bed, pulling her on top of him.   
  
Ginny braced her hands on either side of his shoulders, while she sucked with assurance down his neck and back up again.   
  
He arched his head back, relishing in the thrill of her attention.   
  
She licked in tiny strokes behind his earlobe where the skin was soft and smooth, just beyond the line of stubble where his evening shadow was barely noticeable.  
  
“I missed you,” Ginny whispered in a throaty voice, so fantastically sexy that Harry pulled her tight against him.   
  
Bending a knee and planting his foot on the bed, he arched his hips up into her. She rocked her pelvis against the length of his arousal while their kiss deepened.   
  
The sound of their breathing slowly increased. Their tongues danced together, gyrating with increasing pitch. Ginny carefully removed Harry’s glasses and tossed them at the pillows.  
  
 _This_ was the passion they had never allowed themselves before. _This_ was the heat that they always knew could be between them.  
  
Ginny felt the fluttering of desire swirl in her belly and travel downward, causing her to clench her thighs around Harry’s waist.   
  
She could feel how much Harry wanted her, and not only by the hardness grinding underneath her own sex.   
  
It was in the way he ran his fingers into her hair and held the back of her head firmly, while he kissed her.   
  
It was in the way his mouth dueled hers equally, with wet and demanding fervor.   
  
It was the way he boldly ran his strong, sure hands over her arse, brazen in the way he kneaded the pert curves of her backside.  
  
Harry was no longer a shy, well-mannered boy who was afraid to let his hands wander or let her see the rise in his trousers.   
  
“Mm … yes…,” Harry muttered through a kiss, catching a breath before diving in for another. “Yes…oh. _Ron._ ”   
  
“No, love - _Ginny_. Ron’s taller,” Ginny said with deadpan accuracy.   
  
Harry sniggered, his hands loosening his frantic grip on her. “Bollocks, -sorry, _no._ ” Harry said, his body shaking with laughter, “I meant to say, Ron could come in here.”   
  
“If Ron comes in here, I’ll hex his freckles to spin,” Ginny threatened, with a twinkle in her eye.  
  
“Wow. Well as scary as that would be, I really don’t fancy him walking in on any of things we might be up to in here.”  
  
She grinned at his insinuation.   
  
“All right, if you are really worried about it, here…” She reached for her wand and raised it towards the door.  
  
“No,” Harry said still breathless, quickly grabbing her wrist. “No Locking charms. They’ll be able to detect that and then really know _._ ”  
  
“Who cares? Honestly.”  
  
“I do, Gin,” Harry said, as he rolled onto his side, setting her on the bed with one more kiss before walking to the door and locking the latch by hand. He took the opportunity while his back was to her to adjust himself, as he was no longer fitting into his pants properly.  
  
Ginny’s heart skipped when Harry turned around. He had a wonderful pink hue to his cheeks that didn’t have anything to do with being embarrassed. His lips were swollen and reddened and his eyes dark. She felt as though a creature of prey was stalking her as he came forward.  
  
She scooted back length-wise on the bed as he approached, mounted over her legs, and climbed over top of her. He smiled, a dead sexy smile.  
  
“Harry, you are gorgeous. Do you know that?” she said, looking up at him.   
  
Harry smirked and raised his eyebrows dismissively as he shifted his weight, putting one knee on the bed between her legs.  
  
“No really,” she continued. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you look so content.” It was true. So many times over the years, even in times of celebration, he bore the signs of a man under great strain.  
  
“If I look happy,” Harry began as he leaned down and kissed her sweetly on the lips, “it’s because of you.”  
  
Ginny bent one knee, leaving her foot on the bed while she wrapped the other around the back of his leg.   
  
The thin cotton dress did nothing to conceal the contours of her body; the peaks of her breasts visibly rose against the material.   
  
He breathed through slightly parted lips, and he surveyed her body. He wanted to feel every part of her with every part of himself.   
  
“Hey,” Ginny said, bringing his attention back to her face, with her glorious red hair spread out over his pillow. She beckoned him down to her with her curving index finger. “Come here,” she whispered.  
  
He dropped his head to claim her mouth as he lowered himself on top of her. She moaned into his mouth. Harry grunted in agreement as he supported his weight on his elbows.  
  
Lying on top of her felt _good_. Every contour of their bodies complemented each other, and they fit together perfectly.  
  
Ginny ran her hands up into the back of his shirt, and he remembered how erotic it felt to feel a woman’s fingernails drag across his skin. The feeling made him twitch and thrust against her. She responded by pressing into him, raising her open legs around him wider, causing her dress to fall to the top of her thighs.  
  
Her _thighs_.  
  
Harry’s mind was flying at two different speeds:  
  
The slow motion, logical speed in which he thought about how much he want to feel her naked breasts in his hands. To find out once and for all how far those delicate freckles traveled. To see if her nipples were the same shade of deep pink as her lips and what they felt like rolling between his tongue and the roof of his mouth.  
  
But his logical mind knew he couldn’t gain access to the bounty that was tormenting him through the thin material without pushing her long dress clear over her head. …and that would have to wait for another day.  
  
The other half of his mind, rocketing at full speed, knew her dress was raised nearly to her waist. She met his grinding hips with the same urgency.  
  
He desperately had to feel the heat that was pressing against him.  
  
Harry gripped her thigh and massaged ever lower towards her flexing bottom. His kisses mimicked his hand as he kissed down her neck and explored the notch at the base of her throat.  
  
She let out a whimper, clutching his shoulder blades in what he took as encouragement. His hand continued, seeking what had been restricted from him for years.  
  
He faltered, but she squeezed him with her knees and arched her neck into his kiss and then let her legs fall farther apart. He knew it was all right.  
  
Sliding his fingers carefully over her muscled legs and around to her front, he shifted his weight slightly to make room for his hand. Then he moved forward and found the gratifying feeling of moisture and heat and delicate curls.   
  
Then he froze. He hadn’t been expecting that just yet.  
  
Harry raised his head and for the first time actually felt embarrassment.   
  
“I’m sorry, Gin. Honestly, I expected knickers.”  
  
She let out a quiet, breathy giggle.  
  
“Don’t apologize, Harry. I knew I wasn’t wearing any.”  
  
Harry groaned, and he let his palm rest against the mound as she pressed against him.  
  
“This is ok with you, yeah? S’not too fast?”  
  
“Eight years and two days? No, it’s not too fast.” Ginny kissed him again, and his fears left him.  
  
He slid his fingers along the dampness and the slightly parted folds of skin. He dipped slightly further until even softer skin surrounded his fingertips.   
  
Ginny whimpered at his touch, and the sound sent sparks of pride and adrenaline through him.   
  
He stroked through the soft curls again, splaying his fingers as he did, parting her outer folds.   
  
“Ah…ah…” Ginny keened, and all frantic energy in Harry’s brain slowed to one even, steady pace. He looked at her wet, parted lips and he let his first two fingers slip inside of her.   
  
“ _Ah!_ ” she whimpered loudly. A thrill shot through Harry, making his aching cock throb.   
  
Swirling his fingers around and plunging deeper, he felt her pull her knees wider and press into him. Harry did this over and over, feeling her get wetter.  
  
Then Ginny leaned towards him with half opened eyes, reaching for the opening of his trousers. In the second it took him to think about helping her unbutton them, she had already done it. She pushed on his trousers and boxers until they were half way down his bum, exposing the erection that strained towards her.   
  
Her small, sure hand wrapped around his length and squeezed firmly before tugging up and down.  
  
“Oh, fuck, Gin,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he pushed his fingers inside her again.  
  
Harry had not thought much of what he had learned with his experience in his past relationship, but was now very glad to have learned it.  
  
He watched her face as she rested back against the pillow, lazily stroking him as he sought her nerve center with his thumb. _There._  
  
“Oh! Yes!” she whined louder still, now panting.  
  
“Shh, Ginny, please,” he pleaded in her ear, wanting to hear her cry out, yet not wanting to be overheard.   
  
Her grip around his cock became weaker and he grew harder, thrusting against her, but he kept his focus on her.  
  
Again and again, he thrust deeply into her and then swirled his fingertips over that tiny hidden place. Her moaning and breathing became louder every time. Her own hand reached towards her belly, but stopped as she arched against his hand once more.  
  
“Please, don’t stop,” he said deeply. “Show me.”  
  
Her hand instantly joined his, fingers sliding together in her slickness before she deftly rubbed herself. She frenetically stoked over the place and paused, and then his thumb would replace her fingers just long enough to swirl over it, and then dive back inside, leaving her to rub hard again.  
  
He began kissing her neck and stealing quick glances down at their hands, joined together in the fiery hair he wished he could see more of.  
  
“Oh! Har-ree…oh!” she cried out.  
  
“You’re beautiful, Gin. Please shhh!”  
  
Her own motions increased with speed and ferocity as he pushed his fingers deeper than before, his knuckles pressing against her pubic bone.  
  
She went rigid and took a sharp intake of breath. He quickly covered her mouth with his, muffling her crying out as her climax rolled through her.  
  
When her body softened again and their kiss broke, Harry carefully moved his hand away from her.   
  
“Beautiful,” he said with a smile as he admired the glow in her cheeks. _I love you,_ echoed in his head, but he didn’t trust himself with the words just yet.  
  
He had nearly forgotten that she’d had her hand around his still-firm erection, when she suddenly regained her focus and stroked him again.  
  
He fell back against the pillows and she climbed on top of his legs, maintaining her gentle but firm grip. He looked up at her with half open eyes.  
  
“You, Harry Potter, have learned a thing or two.”   
  
He snorted and started to laugh, but it stuck in his throat as she pulled on him with more authority.  
  
“Good, then?” he managed to ask in a thick voice.  
  
“Oh. Very. Very. Good,” she said with each strong tug of her hand. Harry had a fleeting thought that he would have expected to be embarrassed to have her see him like this, fully exposed, in a well lit room, but he was exhilarated instead.  
  
Harry was amazed at how well she handled him, nearly as good as he did himself. Holding him low and firm, pulling in a steady rapid rhythm, it would seem Ginny had learned a thing or two herself.   
  
He didn’t realize she had slid down his legs until he felt her hand shift, and his eyes flew open when he felt her warm mouth envelope the head of his cock. He gasped at seeing her lips slide up and down his length, and when her tongue swirled around the head and then sucked, his eyes rolled back into his head. He didn’t have to watch to know that mane of red hair was spilling onto his lap and moving up and down with the rhythm of her mouth.   
  
He nearly jumped and had to stifle a yelp when he felt her free hand cup his balls while one finger pressed against the under side firmly.  
  
This was fan-bloody-tastic, and he never wanted it to end.  
  
“Uh, ‘s. so, oh, good,” he panted. When the finger stroked again and she lowered her mouth deeply onto him, licking firmly, he felt his sac tighten and he knew he couldn’t possibly resist this.  
  
“Gin,” he sighed, not sure what to say. “Oh, Ginny, I’m-” He pushed against her shoulder in vain. “I’m, I’m, Oh!” With a final guttural moan, he felt himself throb with a spine tingling orgasm. He was blinded with the intense pleasure, as he involuntarily thrust slightly with the last pulse and he still felt her sucking him and pulling until he relaxed again.   
  
He tossed his head back, panting. He covered his eyes with his hands and rubbed them.  
  
“Blimey, Gin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”  
  
He heard her sniggering at him as she climbed off his lap. She took the wine bottle from the night table and drank. Giving him a saucy smirk, she wiped her lips.  
  
“You daft thing. There’s nothing to apologize for. You were pleased, yeah?”  
  
“Oh bloody hell, _yeah._ ”  
  
He reached down to tuck his slightly softened erection back into his trousers.   
  
“Mmm, that’s a fine looking todger there, Harry. Very impressive.”  
  
Harry snorted, as his member now flopped in his hand when he pulled his shorts back up. He didn’t feel very impressive.  
  
“That was brilliant. You?” he said.  
  
“Quite. I think we’re off to a great start, don’t you?”  
  
He loved the cheeky look in her eye.  
  
“Yeah, great start, I’d say.”  
  
She curled into his arms and they lay together talking and kissing and giggling for hours. The last half of the bottle of wine was long gone and they had fallen asleep nestled against each other, when the tingling in Harry’s numb arm woke him.  
  
“Damn,” he muttered to himself. “Ginny, wake up, love. Come on.” He shook her and gently whispered into her ear. As he watched her eyes flutter open and the smile of recognition light up her beautiful face, he heard the echo of those words again. _I love you._  
  
By the looks of the dark house, Ron and Hermione had gone to bed some time ago.   
  
“You go first,” Harry said, holding out the jar of Floo powder, “and I’ll be right behind you.”  
  
“What? No, you don’t need to come. That’s silly.”  
  
“Still gonna.”  
  
After he watched her disappear with the smoke, he followed and thumped into the kitchen of the Burrow.   
  
Harry walked Ginny to the bottom of the stairs, where he kissed her and was just beginning to think how nice it would be to do this for a while longer when he sensed movement and light at the top of the stairs.  
  
“Oh, good evening, Sir,” Harry said to Mr. Weasley.  
  
“Hello Harry, hi pumpkin,” he greeted them. He was clutching his dressing gown in front of him, lighting his way with his wand.  
  
“Hi Daddy, we were just saying goodnight,” said Ginny.  
  
“Yes, Sir. I’m sorry it’s so late, we lost track of the time and-”  
  
“Oh that’s fine, Har-har-ry,” Mr. Weasley said through a yawn. “Would you do me a favor, lad, and make sure the Floo is secure when you leave?”  
  
“Yes, Sir. Good night, Sir.”  
  
“See you in the morning, Daddy.”  
  
“Good night, Ginny, dear. Thanks, son.”  
  
~^~^~^~^  
  
 _A/N: I am very grateful for the comments I’ve received. I really appreciate knowing that you have taken the time to read my little story. I know this chapter took a while to get up, but I published five stories since the last chapter, so I really have been busy. WYWY gets all of my attention from now on.  
  
Thank you to MrsPadfoot who makes time for my pre-beta run through! And sloppy Ron kisses to Belovedranger for her very detailed beta work – wow! _


	5. For you Blue

WYWY5final

Within You, Without You  
Chapter 5 - For You Blue  
  
~^~^~  
  
The pre-dawn sky had already turned from dark indigo to gray when Harry crossed his arms under his robes, shivering against the slight chill in the air.   
  
He was leaning against a tree near the chicken coop, waiting for the front door of the Burrow to open.  
  
He could hear the chickens beginning to scratch and cluck in their pen, and he was certain he saw two tiny gnomes climb over the far garden gate.  
  
That was when the aging door creaked open and Ginny came into view.  
  
She shuffled out past the inner garden. Harry’s heart soared at the adorable sight. Her eyes were barely open as she dragged her feet, and her hair was all tangled.  
  
Ginny yawned and rubbed her eyes as she waved her wand. A burlap bag of chicken feed levitated out of the coop and scattered seeds around while the fowl scrambled after it.   
  
Harry made his way slowly towards her. When she was only a short distance ahead of him, he froze; he saw her flinch and grip her wand, in reaction to his presence.  
  
“Harry?” she asked, looking over her shoulder in his direction.  
  
She smiled upon seeing him, just as he slipped his hands around her waist.  
  
“’Morning,” he murmured, nuzzling his cheek against her temple, getting a nose full of her unkempt hair. It had a faint smell of strawberry.  
  
“Good morning,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. Their lips met for only a moment, but she felt flushed by the time they parted.  
  
“Missed you.” Harry shrugged, pulling her closer, letting his hands find their place on her lower back. “Didn’t want to wait anymore. I wondered how you’d slept?”  
  
“I slept fine, thank you.” Ginny bit her lip, biting back a giggle as she stroked her fingers through his hair.  
  
“And I wondered what you dreamt about.”  
  
“Oh. I dreamt about you, if I recall correctly.” She smirked before an ungraceful yawn overtook her.  
  
“Yeah?” He grinned at her, squeezing her tight while she nodded, her eyes watering from her yawn. “Hey, I actually wanted to show you something this morning.”  
  
“Really? What is it?” Ginny asked, looking at him as though expecting him to pull something from his pocket.  
  
“Well, we need to take a bit of a ride actually,” Harry said, as he held out his hand and Accioed his broomstick, which was leaning against the tree that he had been resting on. As the Firebolt flew into his grip, he asked with a tilt of his head, “Wanna come with me?”   
  
“Yes! Aw, I’d love to,” she said, her eyes lighting up, “but I’m not dressed, and it’s a bit chilly for flying yet.” Ginny crossed her hands and rubbed her arms for warmth.  
  
“You don’t need to worry about that,” Harry said, straddling the hovering broom. “Come with me; there’s not much time.” He beckoned her with his open hand.   
  
Here was a tall, handsome wizard, with his dark robes billowing slightly in the morning breeze, and he wanted to whisk her away. _This_ was impossible to refuse.   
  
She sighed in defeat. “You can take me anywhere.”   
  
Ginny walked forward, side sitting on the broom in front of him, shivering as she did so.  
  
“Here, lemme keep you warm.” Harry unclasped the front of his robe and he pulled her tight against his chest, wrapping her inside his robe with him.  
  
“Hmm,” Ginny purred as she settled against his hard chest, his free arm wrapped firmly around her middle.  
  
Harry pulled on the lead of the broom handle, which quivered under the power of two riders.  
  
“Aw, come on, Gin, let me fly,” he coaxed, realizing she also had a hold on the handle.  
  
She giggled, but released the broom. “Fine, but I fly back.”  
  
“Fair enough,” he agreed, kissed her behind her ear, and he held her tight against him as he kicked off the ground. “I’ve got you,” his voice rasped in her ear as they slowly rose higher. She clutched his thighs for support, feeling the strength in them as he gripped the broom.  
  
She turned to look up at him, and his eyes sparkled at hers in return. Whether the fluttering Snitch sensation in her belly was caused by their ascent into the air or from Harry himself, she didn’t know.   
  
She was excited by the commanding way he held her. But he didn’t presume control over her like the other men in her life, her brothers, and ex-boyfriends. She trusted Harry: he made her feel respected and protected all at once.   
  
The wind rushed passed them as they soared higher, sending her hair into his face.   
  
“Sorry,” she offered, sniggering and trying to capture it with one hand. “I usually tie my hair back when I fly.”  
  
“Leave it. I like having your hair in my face.” He nuzzled her hair once more before kissing her.  
  
“So, where are we going, anyway?” she asked, looking ahead.  
  
“We’re just about there now, actually,” Harry answered, looking around them. They were hovering above the tree line of the wood behind the Burrow. “Yeah, this’ll do. Now watch…”  
  
Ginny cast a quizzical look at him before scanning the scenery ahead of her, not knowing what she was supposed to be looking for. The landscape that she had explored as a child was still shrouded in short dark shadows below them.  
  
“You know, I just realized that whenever I’m on a broom, I’m playing Quidditch. And, well,” she huffed at herself, “I’m usually trying to be faster or better than whomever I’m up against, aren’t I? Haven’t just sat and looked around much before.”  
  
“Yeah, I was the same way for a long time,” Harry agreed quietly. “Look, here it comes,” he whispered giving her a nudge and peering over her shoulder.  
  
The sun broke the horizon, just above the wall of trees ahead of them.   
The misty white clouds shined bright silver, as though they were melting while the sky behind them blazed a bright pink and orange. The whole world came to life in a split second.  
  
In the next moment, the brilliant colors in the sky were gone. The clouds parted, and Harry and Ginny were squinting in golden sunlight. The Earth beneath them was illuminated in all its summer green beauty.  
  
Ginny looked up at Harry, who had an almost reverent expression on his face, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes slowly lowered to her.   
  
“Harry, love, you wanted to show me the sunrise?”   
  
He nodded, saying nothing, with visible emotion on his face.  
  
“It was beautiful. Thank you,” she said, trailing a finger along his jaw line and over his full bottom lip.  
  
He kissed her fingertips and then leaned forward to kiss her gently, careful not to jar their broom.  
  
“Did you like it?” he asked. “It’s been a while since I came out here to look at it, but I really wanted to show you.”  
  
“Really? Why? Honestly, I always try to avoid morning as long as possible, but someone has to feed the bloody chickens.”  
  
Harry chuckled.   
  
“Well...” He looked out around them as he considered his answer. “Guess it started right after the war, when we still lived here, before Ron and Hermione bought the house and we all moved. I couldn’t sleep much back then.” Harry bit the inside of his cheek and shrugged. “Things were so hard to sort out…. Nightmares. Lupin told me to just appreciate every new day. He was right: it helped, for a while.”   
  
“For a while? Are you saying that you don’t appreciate every day anymore?”  
  
“Oh no, _I do_. But see –I used to think that maybe I’m not supposed to want things in life, since I haven’t had much to celebrate, aside from just living to see the next day. But now, I can’t help it, Ginny; I want more.” He almost looked ashamed at this admission.  
  
Ginny felt her insides drop into her feet.  
  
“You’re allowed to want things in life, Harry. What more do you want? Tell me,” Ginny asked, knowing what _her_ answer to the question would be.  
  
Harry swallowed. It was so hard for him to dare to wish for anything.   
  
“I just know that I wanted to share this sunrise with you. I want to share every day with you. I can’t stand being apart, even just during the night.”  
  
“I think I know how you feel,” she said, reaching up to stroke his cheek.  
  
“Do you?” he asked. “How about you, Ginny? Tell me what you want; I want to know.”  
  
She quickly sat upright.   
  
“Here, let me fly,” she instructed with a smile.   
  
He sniggered. “Yeah, okay.”   
  
Harry still held one arm tight around her middle and put the other on the broom behind him. She leaned forward and took the lead.   
  
Ginny took them in a wide circle over the pasture of strawberry fields and over the line of trees before she let the broom descend. They slowed when the third story of the Burrow was at eye level, centered in front of them.  
  
“There,” she said, looking straight ahead. “That’s what I want, Harry. Just a simple home. Perhaps, one that isn’t quite so lopsided and ratty. One without a ghoul, and for the love of giants, _no chickens_.”   
  
They both laughed and Harry leaned forward, resting his chin on her shoulder as they looked on.   
  
“So, just you and your big, empty, not-lopsided house?” Harry asked.  
  
She poked Harry in the ribs and pursed her lips at him. “Actually, I was thinking that I’d like to share my not-lopsided house with someone. Maybe somebody who’d like to show me the sunrise once in a while...”  
  
Harry felt a stupid grin cover his face. He was certain he bore the same ridiculous expression on his face that he had ribbed Ron about so many times.  
  
Her hair was still blowing about in their faces as they kissed. Harry barely slid his tongue against hers, marveling that her warm taste was already so familiar to him. Lacing their hands together, they led the broomstick together as they flew towards the ground.  
  
Harry’s feet found the ground as they landed behind the broom shed, out of sight of the main house.  
  
He cradled Ginny’s upper body in his arm, so that her legs hung over the still hovering broomstick. She put one hand behind Harry’s neck as he kissed her, while the other began to roam under his open robe, over his shoulder and the flexing bicep that was holding her weight.   
  
His kisses left her swollen lips, and he nibbled and tasted all the freckled skin between her ear and her collarbone. Her blue dressing gown, now disheveled, hung open and off her shoulder, while the white linen nightgown revealed the swell of her cleavage.   
  
This was as close to ‘lingerie’ as Harry had ever seen on her. He liked what he saw.  
  
Harry’s fingertips trailed behind his kisses, past her collarbone until he reached the straining buttons.   
  
Now surrounded by the warm glow of the morning sun he met her eyes, seeking permission, and then ran his fingers under the scalloped edge of her gown.  
  
Ginny smiled and her cheeks colored the slightest hue of pink when she reached up and began unbuttoning the thin barrier between him and the breasts he had dreamt about for years. Harry felt his chest expand, along with other parts of himself, as he watched her undress for him.  
  
Freeing the last button from its delicate cotton anchor with the most trusting and beautiful face he could imagine, Ginny let the fabric fall open and revealed herself to him. The air in Harry’s lungs felt thick as he drew breath.  
  
Now Harry finally knew the answers to the questions that had kept him awake at night. The multitude of freckles thinned toward the peak of her breast, until there was nothing but a halo of creamy, unblemished skin around full nipples that were the same kissable shade of pink as her lips.   
  
It took his breath away.  
  
“Ginny, do you know how beautiful you are? …” Harry’s voice was hushed and awed as he cupped the outer curve of one breast in his palm. He tenderly lifted the soft weight in his hands. Generations of male instinct drove him to put his mouth over the delicate pink peak.  
  
Harry’s dreams had never been this perfect. His heart was light and his cock was growing heavy against the broom handle and every magical cell in his body felt at home as he gently sucked.  
  
Releasing it from his mouth for only a moment once the peak tightened under his tongue, Harry couldn’t resist the temptation to see how the texture had changed. The fine lines of the delicate, puckered skin shone wet as he continued to lick over the top, playing with the firmness.   
  
A contented sigh escaped her lips, and he kissed the valley between her breasts.   
  
“I hope you like this as much as I do,” Harry gasped against her skin, making his way across her chest and claiming the neglected peak with his mouth. He swirled his tongue around and around, while his thumb mirrored the action on the other side.   
  
Ginny ran her hand into his hair, arching into him.  
  
“I do, Harry, I love it. …I love-” And though Ginny didn’t finish the sentence she started, letting it turn into another quiet moan, Harry let the unspoken phrase and sentiment ring in his ear. She loved him. He could feel it.   
  
_I love you_. A life lived without ever hearing or saying the words was a difficult thing for him to overcome.   
  
Another breeze rushed passed them, and when he felt the goose flesh rise on her skin, he pulled her close to his chest.  
  
“I’m sorry. You must be freezing.” He carefully lifted her legs off of the broom and held her in his arms, enjoying a long kiss before settling her on the ground.  
  
“I’m glad you came this morning,” she said, rearranging her clothes.   
  
Harry bent and kissed her chest just below the notch between her collarbones, taking a peek at her bosom once before it was hidden from his view.   
  
“I could do that all morning, you know?” Harry said. Although Ginny’s dressing gown was properly closed again, he felt himself becoming absurdly shy. Harry could only imagine the jokes the blokes would make at his expense if they knew that all he wanted to do was to spend the rest of the day lying in Ginny’s lap, suckling at her breasts.   
  
“And I would let you do it all morning, too,” Ginny said, taking his face in her hands. “You stupid git, are you blushing? I liked that; there’s nothing wrong with it.”  
  
“I know,” he responded, turning pinker still. “It’s just that - Gin, I’m not just having _fun_ with you. You know that, right? I would never just do that, not with you. I really … _feel…_ about you. _Really_.” He unconsciously gripped at his pounding heart while he spoke, the words sticking in his throat.  
  
“I know, Harry,” Ginny said, quieting him with a kiss, holding his cheek in her palm. “I know. We’ve got time for that.”  
  
Harry nodded, still looking disappointed with himself. He had managed to tell Ron and Hermione that he loved them, but that was only in dire circumstances and after years of close friendship. It didn’t make it any easier to say the words again.  
  
“Come on, we’d better get inside,” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand and leading them around the broom shed.   
  
As they walked towards the Burrow, they saw a light flicker on upstairs.  
  
“Harry, I told you that I want a home, but that’s not all I want, you know? It’s not like I want to bake pies all day. There’s big world out there, and I want to see it. I’ve hardly seen any of England, let alone anyplace else.”  
  
“Yeah, I know what you mean. There are lots of places I’d like to see, too. Let’s see them together, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” she agreed.   
  
“Hey, I’ll take you into work this morning.”  
  
“No, Harry, you won’t.”  
  
“What?” he asked, not sure if he understood. “You? You don’t want me to go with you?”  
  
Ginny stopped and faced him.   
  
“Now listen, you. Don’t get emotional about this, okay? You need to understand something.” Harry was frowning, and she rubbed the wrinkle between his eyebrows with her thumb as she continued. “I’ve been escorted every day of my life: to and from school, during every holiday, every trip to Diagon Alley, every trip to Hogsmeade, every place I have _ever_ been. We lived through a war, so I didn’t complain – _much_ \- about it, because I understood the need for security. I was victimized the moment I left for school, so I can understand people looking after me. But I need to accomplish things on my own now. Can you understand that?”  
  
Harry frowned again, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles, considering her position.  
  
“Harry, I have enough brothers in my life. I don’t need that sort of protection from you. Whatever, _this_ is, happening between us? I have to know you respect that.”  
  
A slow smile crept over Harry’s lips.   
  
“I am _so_ not one of your brothers,” he said with a smirk, grabbing her arse and pulling her into a kiss. He rolled his tongue against hers, sucking with quick desperation as though proving a point. He released her mouth and pressed his cheek against hers and whispered, “I do respect you.”  
  
As they approached the front door, Ginny observed Harry out of the corner of her eye. He was gorgeous with his windswept hair and cheeks still rosy from the cool air. She was accustomed to admiring his handsome face over the years, but he didn’t much resemble the boy that had once made her speechless. He was a man now, one she wanted to spend all of her mornings with.  
  
The sound of sizzling and the smell of sausage frying greeted them as they entered the kitchen, but it was the sight of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley having a passionate snog in front of the stove that stopped them short.  
  
“Oh,” Harry stammered, looking at the floor.  
  
“Urgh,” Ginny scolded.  
  
Mr. Weasley moved away quickly, removing his hands from Mrs. Weasley’s backside and reaching for a mug on the counter behind her.  
  
“Morning,” he squeaked, his face on fire, holding up the mug. “Just getting some coffee.” He sat down at the table and quickly dived behind the morning _Prophet_.  
  
“Harry! What a nice surprise,” Mrs. Weasley said, turning to stir the eggs. “Sit down, you two. Breakfast is almost ready. Have you been out?” she asked, not making eye contact and wiping her mouth.  
  
To Harry’s relief, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were flustered enough themselves, and he truly couldn’t think of what to say to them about what he had just been doing with their daughter. He was once a fantastic liar, but at the moment he could only remember what her breast felt like in his mouth.  
  
“Mum,” Ginny stated, without any of Harry’s reluctance, “Harry took me flying, and we watched the sunrise.”  
  
“Oh my,” Mrs. Weasley said, looking at Harry with admiration. “How romantic.”  
  
“It really was,” Ginny whispered with excitement.  
  
Harry took a seat next to Mr. Weasley, wishing he had a newspaper to hide behind.  
  
“Quidditch section, Harry?” Mr. Weasley offered, holding out the paper without meeting Harry’s eyes.  
  
“Yes. Thank you, sir.”  
  
~^~  
  
  
 _A/N: I want to thank BelovedRanger for the super quick and deeply thoughtful beta work and MrsPadfoot for always helping me clean my messes.  
  
I really appreciate the comments and thoughts readers share with me. There are filthy mouthed Weasley boys on the horizon!  
_  



	6. All Together Now

~^~

“Hullo, chicken legs,” Ginny heard a familiar voice taunt.

“Frog face!” she exclaimed to George, standing to hug him, and then quickly snatched the take away bag from his hand. “I’m starving. What’d you bring?”

“Falafel – good?” he asked.

“Mm! Let’s eat it here on the stoop. It’s fun to watch the Muggles going to the market.”

They ate their lunch on the limestone steps of the Quibbler, in Covent Garden, and watched a pair of unicyclists dodge the tourists on the cobblestone street.

“Old Man Lovegood all right to work for, then?” George asked, nodding up at the building behind them.

“Oh sure, he’s sweet enough. Odd as a Skrewt, as you can imagine. Besides, it’s only ‘til Luna comes back this autumn.”

“How’s Luna taking to Scotland? Is Nessie cooperating?”

“Very well. She says they try to keep him deep in the loch, but you know the Muggles pester him the most during the summer.”

“Yeah, poor old beast.”

They ate and nodded occasionally to the magic folk who passed them. Wizards blended easily enough with the eclectic crowd in this part of London.

“How are ya, Forge?” Ginny finally asked. “You look... _happy_.”

He smirked without looking at her. “Not so bad anymore. Lee’s better these days.” He seemed to hesitate, concentrating on chewing a bit more than necessary. “Well, he wants to get out of his mum’s place, and she doesn’t want Lee on his own, so...” He took another big bite to muffle his words. “We’re gonna get our own place. I’m gonna move out of the flat.” He watched people in the street, casting a wary eye in her direction.

She was containing her smile. It wasn’t often George looked uncomfortable about anything. It was the perfect time to tease him, but she knew he was still too sensitive.

“I think that’ll be nice for you. Does Fred know?”

“ _Know?_ ”

“Know about you moving, of course.”

“Oh right. Yeah, I mentioned it. I’m not there all that much anymore anyway; he doesn’t care.”

Ginny was grinning.

“Shut it, you,” he said in a mock warning and shoved her shoulder, “or we can start discussing why _you’ve_ been smiling so much lately.”

“It’s no secret why _I’m_ so happy. I feel like half my dreams have come true with Harry.” Then she got more serious. “I’m really glad you made peace with him finally. It’s wrong how you treated him all this time. He was really hurt.”

George clenched his jaw. He wasn’t accustomed to taking too much guff from people, but they both knew full well she was right.

“I know it -I’m sorry, ‘kay? Let’s not get into it again.”

“I’m not trying to ‘get into it’ again. I knew you were looking for an excuse to stay away, at first. I don’t like how you went about doing it, but now you’ve had plenty of time to deal with it. You’ve finally patched things up with Harry. Why don’t you just come clean with it?”

“Bloody hell, little sister, nuh –uh!” He dropped the last of his food into the paper wrapper in his lap, cutting short her pending protest. “Just because you work in the nutter factory over here, you’ve got used to people accepting the unusual. But that’s not reality in our world, is it? … Besides, none of them really want to know anyway.”

“Everyone in our family loves you.”

“Right. Have you met our brothers? Charlie? Perce? Ron? … They couldn’t handle it.”

Ginny put her hand on George’s shoulder. “I think you’re wrong about them. They’re all gits, but they love you.”

A shadow of sadness passed over his face. He shrugged.

“ _You_ are one of the bravest Gryffindors I’ve ever known. It’s not like you to hide or fret over what other people think. Chin up, already!”

“Oy, this isn’t just about _me_.” George’s eyes flashed. “I’ve a business to consider. This will affect Fred too.”

“Fred’s Man-About-Town reputation hasn’t hurt business any,” Ginny reminded him, staying calm while George was still escalating.

“And Dad at the Ministry!”

“Dad’s never cared what people say about him or the family. He’s judged by his character, as are you.”

“And there’s Lee’s mum as well!”

“I reckon Lee’s mum has always been pretty progressive, hasn’t she?”

George slumped. Sharp jokes and clever charms he could do, but getting personal wore him down.

They listened to musicians begin to play down the street. After a moment passed, Ginny changed the subject.

“So, Harry thinks it’s someone right there in Diagon Alley that’s been doing the attacks.”

“Yeah, he’s been tying it all together: the curse on Fortescue’s grand daughter, the break in at Malkin’s, then Ollivander’s owl -just like Hedwig…” George swallowed hard and frowned. “When he was telling me about Malkin’s cousin, that it was the same hex used on Lee… I ‘bout came unraveled. I thought for sure Harry was going to figure it out.” George looked almost green as he recalled his feeling.

“Oh please, Harry’s clueless. He’s just so glad that you don’t hate him. Honestly, George, this is a big deal for you because you’re living it, but no one else has any idea. Try to quit fretting about it. It can’t be good for your relationship either.”

George’s ears turned pink underneath the freckles. “It’s not easy,” he admitted, but then smiled with trademark naughtiness. “But we do pretty good otherwise.”

“Well, the details you can keep to yourself – yeck. …unless you really _want_ to tell?” Ginny teased. George look scandalized.

“It’s good to be in love, isn’t it, Frog Face?”

~^~

 

When Harry and Ron Flooed into the Burrow’s kitchen, they found Mrs. Weasley in agitation, cleaning by _hand_.

“Mum? You doing all right?” Ron asked, stooping to allow her to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah, where is everyone?” Harry asked, hoping that hadn’t sounded as obvious as _where is Ginny?_

“The girls are still out; the rest of the lot are outside. I told them they couldn’t have it in the house, so now they won’t come in at all,” Mrs. Weasley said, sounding like she needed a bit of a rant.

“Couldn’t have _what_?” Ron asked.

“That horrible liquor of Charlie’s. He’s got one last crate full of it, and he seems bound to finish it off today.” She was scrubbing manic circles over the counter top as she bustled about.

Ron grinned at Harry. “We can make sure it’s all gone before the end of the day, Mum.”

“You boys will be good now!” She menaced them with a tea towel. “But Charlie-” Her voice cut short as her face twisted in a look of frustration.

“What are you on about?” Ron asked, standing in front of her so that she nearly slammed into his chest.

She melted into the arms of her baby boy, who now towered over her.

“You know how upset he’s been about not being able to go back to the reservation all this time.”

Harry nodded to himself. The Romanian and British Ministries had a falling out after the war. British conservationists hadn’t been permitted in the country.

Mrs. Weasley clutched Ron’s shirtfront. “Knowing he’s going to go back to sick and injured dragons, and only half the colony still alive that he left behind. It’s been trouble enough keeping him in check with his family to look after him. But out there?” She broke free of Ron’s embrace as her eyes welled up, and sniffed as she began moving about again. “Just try to keep him under control today, okay? He’s got a long travel tomorrow.”

“We’ll do our part, but Bill is the only one who can keep Charlie in line. You know how it works, Mum.”

“Oh I know all about the _Rules_ you boys have.”

Harry had learned about ‘The Rules’ long ago. In a house full of growing wizards, the natural hierarchy takes over to keep the order. The ‘Rules’ of the house simply state that younger brothers can not use magic against older brothers. Harry could see right away why this had left Ron always a bit fearful of his older brothers, but also had left him particularly skilled with his fists. Bill was the only one who could use his magic against Charlie. Percy never did exercise his prerogative against the twins very often, leaving them wildly unchecked, but they were merciless to Ron. There seemed to be a gray area where Ginny was concerned.

“Now listen to me, Ron, please. After everything he went through, Bill wasn’t there for Charlie like he used to be. I know how the other boys idolize Charlie; they do anything for his approval. …and besides, I’m not talking about using _wands_.” Mrs. Weasley’s voice began to get quieter, but with a higher, conspiratorial pitch.

“Mum! You sayin’ you want me to whip Charlie? Are you mental, woman?”

“Of course I don’t _want_ you to, but if it has to be done… You’ve been playing Quidditch for the past year, while Charlie’s been drinking too much.”

“Charlie’s a mean drunk too.” Ron grumbled and Harry was inclined to agree. Mrs. Weasley acquiesced, muttering something that sounded like ‘Gideon.’

She began to fan at her face, and her nose went red again. “If somebody doesn’t take that boy in hand, he’s going to get burned alive by one of those silly creatures. He’s become so careless – and if Bill won’t, you’re the only who can do it, Ron.”

“He’ll do the right thing if it comes to that, Mrs. Weasley. He always does,” Harry spoke up, as Ron just gaped at his mother.

“Good boys,” she said, smacking them both affectionately on the cheeks before she gave them bowls of pretzels and crisps to take with them.

“Her mood changes are scary,” Harry whispered. Ron just looked out of the doorway at the gathering.

“Oh, bugger me on a broom. Fine. Let’s do this,” Ron groaned. “Don’t leave me hanging, mate. If they start lobbing Bludgers at me, you’ll have my back, yeah?”

Harry acted offended. “I’ve gone out on a limb for you plenty! Have you forgotten how bad they took the piss when I took up with Shannon?”

Ron looked thoughtful for a second then sniggered. “Fair enough; they were brutal.”

Harry had not easily forgotten how he had suffered the Weasley brothers’ torments about losing his virginity to a young woman with a resemblance to Tonks. Harry only tolerated them to distract them from tormenting Ron about being a newlywed.

“Yeah, they _were_ brutal, and the potential is even worse now,” Harry reminded him as they opened the front door and stepped out into the garden, “seeing as I’m dating your sister.”

Ron snorted. “Right, well if they start in on that, you’re on your own there.”

“Thanks a lot, wanker.”

“No problem, mate.”

Charlie’s booming laughter and Fred’s animated voice filled the air.

“Sounds like it’s on already,” Ron muttered. “I might need to give you my wand later.”

The five eldest Weasley men nodded their acknowledgment of Ron and Harry’s arrival, not interrupting Fred’s story.

“-No, no, it’s true and you know it. Makes perfect sense, see? When Charlie goes in, he chats up the finest bird in the place. _Prettiest_ witch of the lot, with legs so long they can wrap around him three times, and an arse so tight you could play Snap off it.”

Charlie’s tanned face was turning pink, but he held his chin up, looking fairly smug. Harry snorted, catching bottles of Romanian whisky that George levitated to them.

“Now me, I don’t mind playing Reserve to Charlie -because every fine bird inevitably has... _a friend_.” Fred waggled his eyebrows, encouraging his small audience to agree with him. There was a collective “ _Uh-huh”_ around the group. Harry glanced at Ron, and both shrugged. This was true in their experience: didn’t they always travel in packs?

“Right? Yes?” Fred continued, “And now, the Hot Bird’s friendhas inevitably got an _arse like_ _this._ ” Fred held his hands wide apart at waist level in front of him, causing snorts and snickers all around.

Bill shook his head as he laughed under his breath. Percy’s lips were pursed into a thin line, as though trying not to permit a smile, while Charlie tossed his head back with open laughter.

George was sniggering quietly with his arms folded, but remained subdued during his twin’s story. He’d spent the better part of the past year helping with Lee’s recovery, while Fred and Charlie coped with their post war stress by partying.

Fred was clearly thrilled with being _on_ for an attentive crowd. “Now, all due respect to the dragon master over here,” Fred said as he jerked his thumb at Charlie, “who may be able to pull the hottest bird and bag her behind the bar – you wanna know something about those skinny girls?” asked Fred, holding up a warning finger. “The skinny ones are as uptight as their own little arses. Nothing but _missionary_ from them.”

Harry felt his face burning, and knew Ron’s was the same as they watched Fred toss back his bottle and drank it half gone before wiping his mouth.

“Why sell yourself short?” Bill asked. “You could pull the pretty ones as well.”

“He certainly could!” agreed George, his brotherly support really only an endorsement of his own face’s ability to pull.

“Oh, no, no, no, there’s an art to it, see? If you go for the prettiest one first, then you’ve gone and offended all her friends. So you’ll be out of luck with all of them too. And then _she_ won’t go out with you because all her friends are pissed off.”

“It’s ghastly the amount of thought you’ve put into this,” Percy muttered, trying not to draw too much attention to himself.

“Well when you play the pitch, Perce, you gotta have a game plan,” Fred chided, undaunted.

“I can pull just fine without-” Percy retorted, but suddenly looked flustered and silenced himself. Seeing the amused faces on the rest, Percy pushed his glasses up on his nose and stared at his feet.

“Git tries too damn hard,” Ron whispered to Harry. Fred grunted at Percy and continued, deciding not to detract from his own story by admonishing Percy further.

“Now, you may get those perfectly proportioned, skinny little things on their backs and spread out before ya,” Fred continued. Percy huffed and Bill palmed his forehead. Ron just blushed brighter, and he held his own bottle in front of his mouth as though trying to hide behind it. “But the fat-bottomed girls already know they aren’t perfect. _And_ they are so chuffed that you asked them first and not their skinny friend, they’re willing to do _anything_ in your bed. They don’t mind being face down in your pillow with that enormous round arse up in the air. The bigger the cushion, the sweeter the pushin’; you know what I’m saying?” All were breathless with laughter, and Harry’s sides were beginning to hurt.

“Does this plan of yours always go so well?” Bill asked after a few minutes, wiping tears from his eyes. His now shoulder length shaggy hair hung over the scarred half of his face.

“Ah well, there was _one_ luscious, full arse that got away from me. Tricky bird that one.”

“The Mount Madeline Expedition?” George noted.

“That’s the one,” Fred agreed. “I put _four_ weeks into that one, and never did come away with the Snitch.”

“That’s a serious waste of four weeks, mate,” Charlie commented.

“M -Madeline?” Percy’s steady, slightly nasal voice piped up. “Madeline Finley?”

Fred raised his eyebrows and looked from George to Charlie, and then they all grinned and looked back to Percy.

“Why… _yes_ , old man, I do believe that was it.” Fred hopped onto the low wall next to Percy and leaned against his shoulder. “Let’s have it then, big brother. Did you mount Miss Finley, then?”

Percy’s flush crept up his neck and overtook his nose, and though his eyes betrayed his consternation, he set his jaw and shrugged Fred off of his shoulder. “Piss off, Fred. As though I would divulge any such thing to you lot.”

Fred sniggered. “Oh I think you would, you scrot. We’re all freckled here –‘cept Harry of course, but he’s as good as. Tell us the tale now. D’you use your charms to get Mighty Mattie to kick her knickers off?”

“I would never say such a- I don’t mean - _I do_ , but I- bugger!” Percy stammered. He seemed conflicted between respecting the girl and wanting to show up Fred. Harry had been in those shoes before.

Fred clapped him hard on the back, knocking his glasses askew again. “You’re no nancy boy after all, are ya, Perce? Good on ya, mate.” This time Fred put his arm heartily around Percy’s shoulder. It was subtle, but came a long way in securing Percy’s once lost place among his brothers.

“And here I took you for a bloody woofter, Percival,” Charlie teased and after a flip of his wand, the back of Percy’s shirt bunched up his back and tried to hook over Percy’s head.

“I certainly am not!” Percy said, struggling with his shirt, and then snatched his glasses as they were floated off his face on Charlie’s guidance. “And don’t call me _Percival_.”

“But it does seem you take a leaf out of Fred’s book: you take to the fat bottomed girls too, yeah? Interesting…” Charlie eyed Percy while he tilted his drink up and emptied the bottle.

Percy triumphed in controlling his shirt before taking a modest sip of his own drink, avoiding eye contact with Charlie.

“You should come out with us some time then, Perce,” Charlie said, sitting on the garden wall on the other side of Percy from Fred. “George won’t ever join us: he’s chosen the perverse life of Celibate Nursemaid.”

George choked on his drink, but smiled and shrugged.

“You’re very quiet over there, George. Can you hear us properly?” With a quick spell, George’s ears grew to three times their normal size. “There now, maybe you’ll hear us better.” George rolled his eyes, grasping his new ears.

Charlie Accioed another bottle of whisky and took a drink before continuing. “We had Harry with us for a little while, right, Harry?”

“Yeah, but I never played it up out there like you two,” Harry admitted, waving him off.

“ _No,_ heavens _no._ ” He mocked Harry. “You never took to the birds stuffing their knickers into your robes, but you still had your piece-o-the-Irish though, didn’t ya? Schooled you well, that one!”

Harry rolled his eyes. In the months following the war, drinking with the Weasleys was the chief form of recovery. That’s when he discovered, regrettably, that he talked too much when he was drunk.

“I think you lot managed to get me to confess plenty with several bottles of Ogden’s. I’ve got nothing left to say.”

“That’s all right, Harry, just as long as you haven’t bestowed your Irish education on our baby sister,” Fred added with a wink.

“Oh, ho, ho. You haven’t been _teaching_ our innocent sister, have ya?” Charlie said, tossing aside his now empty bottle.

The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickled, and he suddenly felt defensive with all eyes indicting him.

Scratching his forehead with the thumb of the hand holding his beer bottle, he shook his head. The rousing memory of Ginny’s hair lying across his lap and the sound of his own voice keening as pleasure coursed through his body from her delicate and clever mouth was at the forefront of his mind. She was no innocent - a fact that had actually left him wondering about her education over the past year.

“You’ll have to take up Legilimency to get anything out of my head, fellas.”

“Actually, I’ve been studying Legilimency,” piped up Percy.

Harry’s eyebrows shot up as a wave of panic had him wondering if Percy could see his memory of Ginny coming around his fingers.

Then Harry realized that Percy was flushing crimson, and his eyes were far too wide; and then he broke. “No, I haven’t. I’m only joking. Sorry.” Percy was shaking his head, and his shoulders slumped with embarrassment.

All the brothers looked around to each other with astonishment.

“Good on ya, Perce!”

“Spiffing, old man!”

“Well played!” All the brothers praised him.

“Shit, Percival, you’re a sarcastic bastard too. Full of surprises, aren’t ya?” Charlie wrapped his strong arm around Percy’s head and noogied him.

“Maybe he really is a Weasley after all, eh?” Fred teased. Percy was still blushing, but beamed at receiving his brothers’ approval, even though it was at Harry’s expense.

“But, this still doesn’t answer the question at hand, does it lads?” Charlie said, drawing his wand on Harry. “You looked damned panicky for a second there, Harry.”

Charlie moved his wand, and Harry felt the magic of invisible hands grabbing a hold of the elastic of his underpants and yanking them upwards.

“Fuck, Charlie!” Harry yelped, grabbing the seat of his trousers, trying to keep them from riding higher. “There’s _no way_ I’m saying a thing about Ginny – ah!” He yelped again as he was raised up to his toes by the seam of his pants digging into his arse. He struggled to talk through clenched teeth as the rest sniggered at his struggle. “As much I appreciate the – _shit!_ -the arse kicking potential of six older brothers, I’m not saying a word on the subject of your sister’s purity.”

“Noble, that one,” George said.

“Had better keep your _wand_ tucked into your robes, Harry,” Fred taunted.

“Saving my eleven inches for you, Fred,” growled Harry, still struggling.

Charlie kept his wand on Harry while he finished his bottle.

“Ease up on him, Charlie,” Bill said, chuckling, and Harry was immediately released from his torturing pants, letting out a fairly emasculating whimper.

“Bloody bastards,” Harry muttered, as he shoved his hand down his trousers, trying to put his twisted pants and tackle back into place. “Why’d I have to fall for a girl with so many brothers?”

Ron nudged him, while George winked. Harry huffed, knowing that however naff, it was still a sign of acceptance that they tormented and laughed at him.

“I’m afraid poor Bill and Ron just don’t know what they’re missing,” Fred bemoaned.

Harry saw Ron and Bill catch each other’s eye, and Bill winked. No matter how much Fred and Charlie would like to talk up their blokey sex lives, Harry’s instinct told him that Ron and Bill had the better arrangement.

“Oh I don’t know, Fred. Can you imagine what half a Veela could do for ya?” Bill gave his brother a slight smile, and held up a warning finger.  
Charlie heeded Bill’s warning and skipped tack without missing a beat. “And little Ronnie over here; that wife of his must be doing something right to keep him home every night.”

Ron rolled his eyes, turning towards Harry to open another bottle himself. “And we’ve arrived at _me,_ at last,” he muttered with annoyance.

“Tell us, Harry, have they forgotten to cast a Silencing charm, recently?” They laughed at remembering one of Harry’s drunken confessions he’d let slip.

Harry bit his lip and shook his head, looking apologetically at Ron.

“She’s a right pretty girl you got there, Ronnie,” Fred commended. “Not quite enough cushion in the tail, but a solid build overall.”

“You can leave off the broom metaphors unless you want to talk about _my_ handle.” Ron gripped his crotch and cocked his head at his brother.

Fred snickered and toasted his bottle at Ron, approving his quip.

“But I think you’re right about that, Fred: Mrs. _Ronald_ Weasley is not _at all_ bad to look at, that’s for certain. Good enough to make Ron wait ‘til their wedding bed, right?” Charlie said, his speech now becoming slurred, and he appeared to concentrate on the spell he was conjuring. A swirling, smoky image of something rather Hermione-shaped erupted from Charlie’s wand and floated in front of Ron. “Ahh – there she is.”

There was collective gasp, along with nervous sounding chuckles.

“All right, Charlie, very fuckin’ funny. That’s enough.” Ron’s manner was gentle enough, but Harry recognized the crackling tension under his guise. The muscle in his jaw popped out. Ron had little tolerance when it came to Hermione… neither did Harry, for that matter.

“Oh come on now, Ronnie. Tell us what keeps that smile on your face?” Charlie taunted, and he flicked the cloudy form of Hermione onto her knees at Ron’s waist.

“I don’t think so,” Ron said, his voice flat, as he banished the ghost-like form of his wife.

The laughing in the yard had quieted significantly, but Charlie didn’t seem to have caught on.

“No? Well she does seem to have a thing for Quidditch players, yeah? Likes ginger hair too.” And as he spoke, Charlie conjured the image of Hermione on her knees again, only this time she was at his own feet.

“You’re out of line, Charlie,” Ron growled, shoving his wand at Harry as he walked towards his largest brother, fists balled. “I’ll knock you flat if I have to.”

Charlie stepped up toward Ron, with the satisfied look of a bully who found bait.

And then it happened.

Harry saw the tiniest movement in Bill’s wand, and suddenly Charlie lurched forward. Both of his feet were stuck fast to the ground, causing him to fall forward and catch himself on his hands.

“Argh! What the fuck?!” Charlie roared, stuck in a bear stance on all fours. His hands seemed stuck as well. “ _Bill_! Bill, you bastard! Lemme go!”

“Sorry, Charlie, no can do. I’ve let you get away with far too much already. You’re making a right fine arse out of yourself.”

“ _Fuck_ you talking about?” Charlie yelled, twisting awkwardly to look at Bill. The rest of the men were in hysterics.

“You’ve been unchecked for too long of late, little brother.”

“Suck my freckled prick, Willie boy. I’m going to kick your arse!”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Bill said mildly, trying to keep his own composure. “As a matter of fact, since you persist in making an arse of yourself, you may as well do it up proper.” With another tiny swirl and jab of Bill’s wand, Charlie’s baggy denims and white underpants fell to his knees, revealing a well muscled and moderately bespeckled backside.

The roaring sound of laughter drowned Charlie’s curses and threats. George and Fred were positively rolling on the ground, Ron didn’t look like he could breathe, and Harry had never seen Percy laughing so hard.

Tonks suddenly walked into the garden, followed by a bewildered looking Remus.

“Wotcher, Charlie. Nice to see you haven’t let yourself go, mate.” And she gave him a resounding _smack_ as she passed him.

Charlie practically squeaked while Remus’ eyebrows shot up.

“T –Tonks, that’s just not. Well, I mean, I don’t think you should…” Remus said, as he absentmindedly shook hands with Harry.

“Oh tosh, Remus, s’no big deal. You’ll not find a person in Gryffindor house during our time that hasn’t seen Charlie Weasley’s nekkid arse. He streaked the Common Room after every Quidditch win – didn’t ya, Charlie?”

“You were always first in line to see the show, weren’t ya, Tonks?” Charlie growled into the ground, fighting the charm that had his heels and palms stuck to the earth. He couldn’t even bend his knees to conceal himself.

“Now, now, you start behaving yourself,” Bill reprimanded, his own voice shaking. “I think you’ve forgotten who the big brother really is around here.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything, you fuckwit! You-” snarled Charlie, but he stopped short when a shadow fell over him.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, each with platter of sandwiches in hand, stood silent and blinking.

The laughter quickly died into a guilty hush. Mr. Weasley’s eyes were red and watering. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, feigning blowing his nose.

“We just brought out some food,” Mrs. Weasley carried on casually, passing Charlie’s bare bum and setting the platters on the picnic table. No one looked anyone else in the eye, in case they broke the silence.

“Almost time to tuck in.” Mrs. Weasley took her husband’s arm and started back inside. “And Bill?”

“Yes, Mum?” answered Bill, sounding quite innocent.

“If Charlie gets a sunburn, you’ll be the one applying the cream.” The chuckles and snorts broke out again.

“Yes, Mum.” Bill answered. They waited a moment for their parents to leave before erupting again.

“Okay, ha-fucking-ha,” Charlie grumbled at the ground. “You’ve had your go, now let me up. …Bill?” He was beginning to sound contrite.

“No more abusing The Rule. If you keep it up, I’ll take your wand and give Ron his.” Charlie huffed, but nodded.

Suddenly Harry felt Ginny arrive behind him. She hopped onto the garden wall and put her arms around his waist, pulling him close.

“Oh my!” squeaked Hermione as she arrived by their side, suddenly spinning away from the exposed Charlie. She hid her red face against Ron’s chest, while he chuckled at her modesty.

Bill released Charlie from the Sticking charm, and he pulled his trousers up as he stood. Charlie first fixed George’s ears with an apology.

“’m sorry, Ron,” he grumbled, casting Ron and Hermione a brief glance and looking back at the ground.

“Yeah. Sure.” Ron nodded, giving his humbled brother a nod of acceptance.

“Looks like Charlie got into some trouble,” Ginny said over Harry’s shoulder, nuzzling his neck in greeting.

“What did he do?” Hermione whispered, looking up at Ron and then Harry.

“Just drinking too much,” Ron said with a shrug. He and Harry shared a look, both agreeing that this lie by omission was acceptable, to spare Hermione embarrassment over Charlie’s magical incarnation of her.

Bill took Charlie around the shoulder, giving him a rough hug, and he and Remus hauled him back into the house. “Let’s get you sobered up, Charlie. You’ve got a lot of work waiting for you,” Harry heard Bill say.

Ron and Hermione joined the others in conversation, leaving Harry to turn around and face Ginny, giving her a proper hello kiss. His heart felt that warm swell that happened whenever they were together.

“Same ol’ ‘cock and bull’ around here?” Ginny asked.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Harry said, fidgeting in pants that still didn’t feel right.

“I can imagine what they ribbed you about,” she said with knowing smirk, running her hand over the side of his face.

“Oh yeah. They all threatened me plenty about your good virtue.” Harry lowered his eyes and blushed slightly.

“Ha! Hypocrites. A lot they know about my virtue. What’d you say to them?”

“Not a word, honest. Under torture, even,” Harry answered, shifting on his feet.

“Under torture?” she sniggered. “Oh Harry, you could have just told them.”

“Actually,” Harry said, absently picking at her shirt sleeve, “I’m not sure I really know the answer.”

“The answer to _what_?” Ginny asked, pulling away from him.

“Well, as to, if you… you’re a -you know,” Harry stammered, his cheeks turning a beautiful light pink.

Ginny lifted his face to meet her questioning eyes. “A virgin?”

~^~

_A/N – Remember at the beginning when you all thought I killed George? Heh, heh._

_I did not even know that was a line from Spinal Tap – honest! I apparently have useless pop culture floating in my head, and I don’t even know it._

_So many people offered their tidbits and help with this one, even if they don’t know it: Shocolate, Alloy, OncelikeShari, Allipotter and WandrinDreamer – thank you._

_Pats on MrsPadfoot’s crazy little head for her super quick pre-beta. She has made me fear adverbs._

_BelovedRanger has eyes like hippogriff – nothing gets past her. She’s a brilliant beta, and she deserves to be surrounded by Ron’s freckles for taking on a Harry/Ginny story!_

_I am grateful for all of your comments and encouragement this far!_


	7. Getting Better

~^~

She jutted out her chin and looked at him through squinted eyes, a suspicious look on her face.

“You mean, after these past few weeks together, you really don’t know?” Ginny didn’t look particularly angry, but there was a shift in her tone that set off a warning in his head.

He swallowed, and something in his throat felt twitchy. Where his fingers once had been making methodic circles along the backs of her arms, he now began anxious rubbing. “Well I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up. I didn’t want you to, I dunno, be uncomfortable, or feel bad about it or anything.” _There,_ he thought, relaxing. _Avoided that mess._

__But he felt her stiffen under his hands, and she pulled away sharply.

“And _what_ would I have to feel _bad_ about?”

“Nothing! Not at all – I didn’t mean that. I just meant that since you had been so great about me-” Harry ruffled the back of his hair and tugged on his collar. “ – about my, er, _history_ , that I wasn’t going to say anything about _your_ history. It’s really okay with me.”

But the look on her face told him in an instant that he had made things worse. Ginny took in a quick breath, and she seemed to grow twice her size.

“Oh you’re _“okay”_ with it, are you?”

“Uhm.” Harry had thought he was doing the right thing, but he was clearly fouling this up. “Yes?”

Ginny abruptly pushed him away from her and hopped off the wall, and though she was a head shorter than him she looked none too small now. He felt his own defensive anger build in him.

“Well, you’ve got some bollocks, Potter. Telling me I’ve – and you – _you._ ” She looked too angry to speak.

“Hang on. There’s no need to get your wand bent. I didn’t mean that it was something you _should_ be ashamed of – ”

But Ginny gasped and Harry shut up, realizing he was only making things worse. He didn’t understand why she got so upset when he was being so understanding, but it also made him angry.

He hadn’t done anything wrong, he insisted to himself.

But it didn’t seem to matter. One minute he was laughing and snogging his girl, and the next minute she had walked away from him without a word.

~^~

 

Ginny sat rather ungracefully at the bench along the table, chin propped on her hand, poking the pulp of a watermelon repeatedly with a spoon.

A tense meal and a few hours had passed and Ginny’s anger at Harry had dissipated, and now she was left with guilt. It wasn’t really Harry’s fault after all.

Ron grabbed a strand of her hair, giving it a sharp tug as he straddled the bench facing her. She screwed up her face from the mild pain of the pull, but wouldn’t give Ron the satisfaction of hearing her wince about it.

“What’s going on, little sister?” he asked.

“Not a thing,” she said rubbing her head and giving him a shrewd look. Ron’s nose was slightly red, as were his eyes. “Ron …Are you _drunk_?”

“Nah,” he protested, trying to rest his chin on his hand and missing. “A little pissed, yeah – not drunk.”

Ginny shook her head and huffed at him.

“Come on, tell me,” he urged, reaching to pull her hair again.

“ _No._ ” She batted his hand away. “’S none of your business.”

“Oy. If there’s anything that’s my business, it’s you n’ ‘arry.”

“You really don’t want to know. I promise you,” she said, taking a napkin to wipe the mashed potato that he had just leaned into off his elbow.

“Yes, I do. I mean, unless it’s about, you know, the sex or something.”

Ginny snorted. “Well, it is.”

Ron winced and sucked breath between his teeth. Then he scrubbed his large hand over his face and rubbed his eyes hard.

“Okay then. What can I tell you? Is he rubbish? Do I need to give my mate some advice?” He had a wicked gleam in his bright eyes.

“ _Ron_.” She giggled. “Shut _up_! We’re not having ‘the sex,’ so you’re off the hook.”

“Oh, good.” Ron looked relieved, but then frowned. “Then how can you be arguing about sex if you’re not having it? …Wait a minute – he’s not pressuring you, is he?” He broke into a very Fred-like grin. “Want me to wupp him? He’s scrappy, but I can do it.”

“Will you stuff it already? You know Harry better than that. Of course not.”

Ron appeared deep in thought as his bloodshot eyes darted back and forth for a moment before fixing on her again.

“I don’t get it then.”

Ginny sighed. “I said it was nothing. Harry was just being stupid.”

“Oh. Well, I’ve no doubt about that; he can be thick sometimes.” Ginny smiled, but Ron grew slightly more serious. “So, did you yell at him?”

“No. I didn’t want to be like that. I was very careful not to yell at him.”

“Ah, that’s it, then,” Ron said.

“What? I was trying to be nice and not fly off like Mum.”

“Yeah, but Harry doesn’t deal with ‘silent-angry.’ ‘Yelling-angry,’ that he understands. He’s good in a proper fight. You wanna yell and trade insults, he’ll meet you blow for blow, but if you give him the silent treatment-” Ron sighed. “Makes him nervous when people he loves don’t talk to him.”

Ginny met her brother’s earnest face with a wary smirk. Funny that Ron would say it before either of them.

“Yeah, he loves you. I’m sure of it.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded, giving her a gentle shove. “Love him?”

Ginny bit her lip, and crinkled her nose, but smiled. She couldn’t tell Ron what she hadn’t even told Harry himself yet.

Ron smiled and reached for her hair again, causing her to flinch. But instead of pulling it, he patted her head affectionately, and pulled her into his shoulder in an awkward half-hug.

~^~

Harry was throwing rocks at an old tree stump when Hermione joined him. He looked at her with a half-hearted warning, knowing she had come to _talk,_ and she gave him an innocent look.

She picked up a stone and tried her turn at hitting the stump. It landed about eight feet away. Harry chuckled.

“You held onto it too long,” Harry said. “Let go when your arm is fully extended.”

Hermione pursed her lips and huffed, as though she couldn’t care less about learning how to toss a rock across a field, but she couldn’t resist the challenge either.

Her next rock almost made it.

“Quick study,” Harry noted, zinging another.

“Harry, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she finally asked tersely.

“Nothing’s wrong. Why?” He had to at least make an effort to play it off.

“Because you are showing me how to throw rocks, instead of sitting back there with your girlfriend.”

Harry deflated a little. His landed with a _thunk,_ well short of its target.

He looked at Hermione for a moment before speaking.

“Not much point in trying to keep anything from you, is there? I guess me and Ginny had our first row.”

“Only your first?” Hermione asked, sounding incredulous.

“Well, we _argue_ about stuff all the time, you know, like about the Muggle Protection Act or the Auror’s Use of Force policy. Things like that. …This was different.”

“How was this different?”

Harry sighed, rolling the rock between his fingers. “This was personal, _intimately_ personal. She didn’t even stand and yell at me; she just walked away.”

“I see. But, Harry, you didn’t find it … _exciting,_ at all?”

Harry snorted and licked his bottom lip. “ _No_. I felt like I might throw up.”

“Oh,” Hermione said simply.

Harry grinned. “You two really get off on the fighting, don’t you?”

“ _What?_ ”

“You heard me. Perverts, the both of you! And I’m supposed to take advice from you?” Harry chided, nudging her with his elbow.

“ _Harry!_ ” Hermione blushed and giggled, then added quietly, “Making up is fun too.”

He snorted as he put his arm around her shoulder, resting his head against hers. He was still a little light-headed from Charlie’s Romanian Whisky, and found that his heart was sitting right in his throat.

“Everyone here has their own dragons to deal with, Harry. Ginny’s no different than the rest of us.”

“Mmm, you might be right about that,” Harry agreed.

Hermione tutted, as though there could be any other possibility.

 

~^~

Harry and Hermione entered the garden hand in hand, and Ginny got up from the table where she was sitting with Ron.

As always, Harry was compelled to follow her. He was helpless against the magnetic force of nature that drew him towards her. It was simply in his blood.

He gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze as she went off to Ron, who was grinning at her with glazed eyes.

Ginny caught his eye, looking over her shoulder at him momentarily, and then she was gone from his view as she entered the house.

When he passed through the kitchen, he saw a glimpse of her hair swinging around the corner as she went up.

He passed the family clock, each family member’s hand quite unusually sitting in one location.

Climbing the stairs two at a time, his muscle memory started to take him all the way up to Ron’s room. But he stopped with his foot on the stair as he got to the third floor landing, a blaze of color in the open door catching his attention. Ginny’s room, _of course_ : he wasn’t accustomed to going there _._

He pushed the door open and paused for moment, by way of announcing his presence before entering, and then pushed the door shut behind him. Maybe another day he would take his time to enjoy what he saw in Ginny’s bedroom: the posters on the wall, the clothes on the floor, her treasures on the chest of drawers, all of which were insignificant when compared to the actual woman in front of him.

She was sitting in the window seat, with her back against one wall and her knees pulled up to her chest.

He took up a seat opposite her, mirroring her pose as well as his long legs would allow. With his elbows resting on his bent knees, his hands hanging in front of him, their fingers were nearly touching.

Just another hair closer and, _there_ , their fingertips touched. Who knew that fingertips could communicate so much?

Ginny finally broke the silence.

“It’s embarrassing,” she said with a simple shrug, looking at him briefly before looking back out the window. “When you made that assumption, I got embarrassed.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “I haven’t seen you get embarrassed in _years_.” Harry felt the defensive knot he had built up in gut begin to subside, and he shook her hand playfully.

Ginny snorted.

“No, really. You just laugh things off. You never get wound up about things like Ron does.”

“I suppose I grew thick skin to a lot of stuff.”

“What’d you need a ‘thick skin’ for? You were popular, and smart and pretty, and – ”

“Bah!” Ginny frowned and scrunched up her face. “What does ‘popular’ really mean anyway? I had people to sit with on the train? Who cares about that? So a lot of people knew me.”

“Well yeah, you always had friends.”

“I had people to talk to, sure. You know who my real friends were: Hermione, Luna. I was the last of seven Weasleys; I had a reputation before I even got to school. And you know the reputation we have, the _male_ Weasleys in particular. _Every one is randy and fertile_ or some shite. Which is all well and good for _wizards_ , isn’t it? Good for a laugh with the blokes. And even a complete arse like Percy always had a girl on line, didn’t he?”

Harry snickered. If he had ever doubted this was true, the conversation led by Fred and Charlie earlier would have confirmed it.

“And not getting married ‘til late in life, like _Bill,_ or not at all like the other boys who are still running around wild. At least Ron getting married young went a little ways to please the old fashioned types.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.

“Well, the same reputation isn’t very flattering for a witch, is it? _No_ , the same thing said about a girl makes her a slag. You add that to the whole thing that happened in my first year. Well…”

Harry squinted and puckered his lips, trying to reconcile her bearing the Weasley reputation with what happened to her during her first year.

Ginny sighed, and the sound turned into a quiet giggle. She leaned forwards and took his hand into hers and kissed his knuckles. “I got embarrassed and angry earlier, but then I realized you probably didn’t know about the trashy rumors, did you? You had plenty of your own distractions while you were at school.”

Harry smiled a weak apology at her, but he was still confused.

She shook her head and took a deep breath. “You see, so much was said about … about me and Tom… about him possessing me.” A flush crept up Ginny’s neck, and Harry felt a deep frown set in his forehead. “About what he supposedly did to me down in the Chamber – about molesting me and – ”

“ _What?_ Wait – what are you saying? Nothing like that happened! Oh shite, nothing like that happened, did it?” Harry felt sick and furious, unable to decide which was stronger.

“ _No_. No.” Ginny comforted him. “I’m sorry, Harry, calm down. Nothing like that ever happened. But it didn’t keep people from talking, did it? Besides, believing rumors is less confusing than trying to understand what really happened.”

Harry’s eyes bugged; he had never thought about Voldemort and her like this before. “But you were just a little girl at the time. That’s, that’s just…”

“You know what thirteen year olds are like: any little bit of gossip to run off with.”

Harry stood and paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. He knew these things happened, from hearing Muggle news reports. And he had heard stories about the dangers of Knockturn Alley, but he was positive he had never heard anything about Ginny.

“But, but how could anyone have found out about Riddle anyway? Dumbledore never told.” He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“He told Lucius Malfoy, didn’t he? And do you think _he_ kept it to himself? Course not! He didn’t mind setting me up to get killed or opening the Chamber. Why would a little thing like the reputation of a twelve year old ‘blood traitor’ stop him? I’m certain he let it slip to Draco.”

He kneeled in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry, Gin. I never heard anything like that.”

“No one dared mention it around my brothers, and you were always with Ron, weren’t you? … Hermione knew about it though.”

Ginny looked at the very serious Harry in front of her. The little girl inside her could still see the cute boy she first fell in love with, who had pink cheeks and messy hair and good manners.

But now she saw him with a woman’s eyes. This man who had seen death, and known loss and here he was, on his knees and clinging to _her,_ and he looked so hurt on her behalf. __

__God, she loved him!

“So, growing up bearing a questionable reputation changed my outlook on a few things. How many girls have to defend that they _weren’t_ de-flowered by a Dark Lord at the tender of eleven? And when boys started taking notice of me, the family reputation set in. Everyone just knew Ginny Weasley had been around.”

“I never thought that of you,” Harry said to her stomach.

“I know.” She kissed his hair, taking note of how good he smelled. “And when I eventually started seeing Paul – ”

“Who?”

Ginny laughed. “The _Ravenclaw_.”

“Oh, right,” Harry grumbled, burying his head in her belly again.

“I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. He and I did do an awful lot together.” Harry made a quiet growling sound. “But I never did sleep with him. Almost did, a number of times, but after having defended my so called ‘honor’ for so long, I just didn’t want to do that with someone I didn’t love.”

“So, you didn’t love him?” Harry felt his spirits lift a little.

“No. He was nice, and decent and good looking and – ”

“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.”

“ _But_.” Ginny lifted his chin to meet her eyes. “He wasn’t you, Harry, and … I love you.”

Harry looked at her, feeling a peace settling between them.

Somebody loved him. No, _Ginny_ loved him. There were no fireworks, and no magical sparks, just her quiet, simple, heartfelt words.

“I …” He tried to speak, but he was overwhelmed by how much he wanted to say and he didn’t know where to start.

“Shh.” She put her finger over his lips to stop him, and then leaned down to kiss him. “Don’t say anything right now, okay? I didn’t say it just to get you to say it right back. I just wanted you to know. You have my heart; it’s always belonged to you.”

Harry’s smile was so broad he thought he may not be able to properly kiss her, but he as sure as hell was going to try. Maybe he couldn’t manage to speak everything that he wanted to say to her, but his body certainly knew how to communicate with hers.

He stood, pulling her up from the window seat, and turned her around. Laying her back onto the bed, he planted his knees between her legs and lay on top of her as the old thing creaked and bowed.

He reminded himself not to get too carried away. There was, after all, a house full of protective Weasley men just downstairs.

She met his kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer. The previous hours of upset and anxiety disappeared as their hands roamed over each other in tandem with their amorous tongues.

Her warm mouth welcomed him, and his lips grew wet as they slid over hers. He loved tasting her. He wanted to taste more of her, to distinguish the likeness of her beautiful lips with the soft pink flesh hidden at her center.

Her fingers threaded through his hair as his kisses traveled down her neck, licking at the notch between her collarbones and settling at her cleavage.

“Want _more_ ,” he murmured over the swell of her breast.

“Yes, me too, anything.” She unclasped her robes, letting them fall open.

His body was begging him to continue as he rocked his hips against her, aching for release. She wrapped one leg over his backside and arched up into him, leaving no question that she wanted him too.

He boldly ran one hand along the inside of her leg and smiled against her skin when she let it fall open at his touch, the hem of her skirt falling to her waist.

He hadn’t intended to take any risks like this, not here, not today. “You’re impossible for me to resist.”

“Then don’t.” Her voice was breathy and tight, and one hand caressed down his side, teasing over his nipple before she tucked her hand into his waistband, digging her nails into his hipbone.

He wanted her, wanted _to be_ with her, to join her body completely, and yet there was a quiet warning in his head. He felt he now bore some responsibility as her first lover – but he didn’t want to think about that now. She loved him and he had the capacity to give her pleasure, so that’s what he sought after.

As his fingertips trailed over the tendons at the crease of her thigh, _so close,_ he arched his pelvis against the mattress, seeking pressure against the hard bulge trapped in his trousers.

Harry was vaguely aware of a shadow crossing the room and as he raised his head to seek out new freckles to kiss along the inside of her knee, he glanced sideways at the window.

_George.  
_  
Due to battle tested defense techniques, Harry leapt back off of Ginny and landed hard on his arse on the other side of the bed.

“Fucking hell,” he snarled.

“Harry, what the hell are you -?” Ginny started.

“– George,” Harry groaned and pointed over the edge of the bed at the window.

“Oh for the love of – ” Ginny hopped off the bed and lifted the latch and pushed open the window. “ _What are you doing out there_?” she demanded.

Harry looked over and could see George smirking, astride one of the family broomsticks.

Ignoring Ginny, he ribbed Harry instead.

“You okay down there, mate? Looked like you were doing all right, but falling off the bed, man, that’s poor form.”

“Very funny.”

“ _George_?” Ginny demanded again.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, but I’m heading home soon, and I just wanted to say ‘bye’.”

“Through the window?”

“More fun than going through the house, yeah.” He shrugged.

Ginny gave him a threatening look.

“Okay, so Fred dared me.”

“Ugh! We’ll be down in a minute.”

“ _Both_ of you? ‘Cause from what I saw, it looked like Harry was already headed dow– ” But Ginny slammed the window shut before George could finish, cursing epithets about ‘brothers.’

Harry stood and rearranged his now deflated and frustrated cock. “Splendid. This is all I need.”

“Oh relax, love. George isn’t gonna say anything; he’s got his own problems.” She put her arms around Harry and kissed him. “We’ll just pick up where we left off later, yeah?”

Harry nodded, the promise of continuing later and her declaration of love still strong in his heart as they went downstairs.

As they passed an old photo of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on their wedding day, Harry decided to bring up something that he’d been thinking about since the morning he took her to see the sunrise.

“Fancy going on a short holiday together?” he asked.

“Really? Where to?”

“Godric’s Hollow. There are a few things I want to show you there.”

“Harry, I’d love to! When should we?” But they were interrupted as Remus and Tonks exited the first floor loo.

“Oh hullo, you two!” Tonks said, wiping her mouth with an extremely cheerful gleam in her eye.

“We were just, er- checking the plumbing,” Remus said lamely, wincing and shaking his head.

Tonks snorted. “Real smooth, Remus. I’m sure they don’t suspect a thing.” She rolled her eyes. “ _Marauder, my arse_.” Tonks grabbed Ginny by the arm and took off with her, both laughing along the way.

The two men were left side by side and rather than making eye contact, they watched their women descend the stairs.

“So, are you and Ginny getting on all right?” Remus asked. Harry thought it interesting that he felt defensive whenever the other men in the house asked questions about their romance; but it made him feel good, and rather grown up, to be asked by his father’s friend.

“Yeah, real well, actually,” Harry said.

“Ah, I’m glad to hear that. I thought I might have detected some trouble brewing between you earlier.”

“Oh, you _did_ ,” Harry confirmed, adjusting his glasses. “I can bugger things up without even knowing it.”

Remus chuckled, and put a consoling hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We can _all_ do that, lad. You’re not alone there.”

“Say, do you have a second, Remus? I want to ask your help with something: I’ve been working on some alterations of the Cartography spell you lot used to make the Map.”

“Really?” Remus raised his eyebrows, looking like a professor again. “Now that sounds interesting. I’d be happy to help.”

~^~

After a half hour had passed, Harry and Remus emerged from the house. Remus was off to talk to Bill, and Harry caught sight of Ginny across the garden with the rest of the women.

She gave him a curious look, and he realized he was smiling.

He shook his head and indicated where he was heading; Mr. Weasley and Ron were sitting on the bench next to the table.

“Excuse me, sir,” Harry said, feeling his prior excitement give way to nerves. “I wanted to ask if I could take Ginny on an over night trip to Godric’s Hollow.”

Ron smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked positively bursting to say something.

Harry squinted at him, warning, _daring_ him to say a word.

“Godric’s Hollow then?” Mr. Weasley said. “That’s an interesting choice for a mini- break.”

Harry smiled cautiously. “Yes, sir. I’ve got my land there, as you know, and Ginny has never been, so I thought I’d take her. There’s Mrs. Bentley’s B&B where we could stay.”

“Where you three stayed when you first went away there?”

“That’s the place, yes. She’s a real decent sort. She’d put us up, erm, you know, in separate rooms and all.” Harry felt his insides twist at the implications floating around them, but knew he had to stand his ground.

Harry wasn’t going to acknowledge how Ron’s face was twisting with the desire to make a remark.

“I see, I see,” Mr. Weasley said. “Godric’s Hollow isn’t that large a village. You really think you need two days then?”

“Well, no, you’re right about that. And if you’d rather, we _could_ return at the end of the day. It’s just that there’s something I want to do with Ginny, and I think it may take all night.”

Mr. Weasley smirked. Ron snorted. And Harry crumpled onto the bench and buried his face in his hand.

“Blimey, Harry. You really are rubbish at this,” Ron finally teased, laughing.

“Shut up,” he groaned.

“I don’t think you should let him go, Dad. Sounds pretty dodgy to me.”

Mr. Weasley chuckled. “If he were a slick talker, I might not. But this is the fun part of having a daughter. I never got to see you boys acting like this.”

“I’m sorry, sir. What I meant was –”

“No, that’s quite all right, son. I have no doubt you intended for that to come out better.” They continued to snigger at Harry’s mortification.

“Come on, Dad. You’re letting him off too easy. Aren’t you gonna shake him down a bit more?”

Harry scowled at Ron.

“Should I? Ginny’s of age. I certainly can’t prevent her from going. I didn’t try to stop you from going when you left home the first time, did I?” Ron shrugged. “Harry, I do appreciate the sentiment you are showing in asking my permission, but I can hardly grant what isn’t mine to give. You two kids have a good time, but behave and stay safe, yeah?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”

“Git,” Ron chided Harry, still protesting.

“But Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, getting up from the table. “I might ask that you please be mindful of Ginny’s reputation? I dare say the girl’s had enough to live down in her life already, eh?”

Harry nodded solemnly. “Of course, sir. I promise.” Harry knew he might not have fully understood the weight of Mr. Weasley’s reference if Ginny hadn’t told him about what was said about her. He patted Harry on the arm and smiled at him. He hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it and merely nodded as he walked off towards the ladies.

Ron was still smirking at him, with his arms crossed, looking fit to torment him further.

“Sod off, you,” Harry warned. “I can’t _believe_ I said that to your dad…” He shook his head and sighed.

“That was great! I love it when you go tits up like that. You’ve been far too serious, mate.”

“I’ve been getting better,” Harry protested.

“Yeah, guess you have. Suppose my sister’s got something to do with that?”

Harry looked across the garden at her and smiled. “Might.”

“So, uh, what _are_ you planning to do with my sister that’s going to take _all night long_?”

“Can’t tell you, mate. Sorry.”

“Whaddya mean? You tell me everything.”

“Not this time,” Harry said with conviction. Ron got a hurt look on his face. “It’s a surprise, Ron.”

“Come on, I’ve been really good about you two, haven’t I? Have I ever banged on your bedroom door when you two are locked in there for hours?”

Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. He felt Ron glaring at him, and he slowly turned to face him. “What?”

“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” Ron asked.

“What? Ron!”

“No! Not _that_ \- and you’d better not -I mean, you’re gonna ask her?”

Harry tried to pull his game face and not give Ron any expression; _damn him,_ he always knew what Harry was up to. He was trying to think of a response, but was saved the effort when the screech of an approaching owl caught their attention.

A medium sized, smart looking black owl with a bright orange envelope attached to its leg had landed in the middle of the garden. Everyone had gone quiet. The owl looked around and made an annoyed _hoot._

All of the family’s post was pre-sorted and brought by a familiar owl these days: a precaution put into place by the Ministry and the Order after Hedwig was murdered. No one in the family, Harry included, accepted post from an unknown owl.

Remus surreptitiously cleared his throat and moved forward with his wand out. Bill followed, and Mr. Weasley moved in as well. Remus circled his wand over the messenger and the letter and when the cautionary spell revealed nothing sinister, he freed the bird from its burden and it flew off, clearly offended by the treatment it had received.

“It’s for Ron,” Remus said, handing it out to him. “It’s safe.”

Ron took it in his hand and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, everyone.”

Hermione joined him on his other side as he tore the seal open, and she looked on as he read it.

Ron’s eyes went wide, and he gasped. Hermione let out a high-pitched squeak. They looked at each other, and Hermione threw her arms around his neck, laughing.

“All right, what’s goin’ on?” Ginny demanded.

“I’d like to know that myself,” Mrs. Weasley said from behind her, the rest of the family now moving in.

Ron and Hermione broke their embrace, and both had wet eyes and wide smiles.

Ron let out an awkward giggle before he spoke. “Erm, Redwald Blake has decided to retire.” He gestured with the letter in his hand. “ … I’m officially the first string Keeper for the Cannons.”

~^~  
 __

_A/N - I’d like to thank my betas, MrsPadfoot, for the constant support and encouragement, and Belovedranger for her quick and very skillful work. This story is lucky that I have them!_

_I am so grateful for the comments and enthusiasm I’ve received. I’m really enjoying taking Harry and Ginny on this little adventure with all of you._

_Stay tuned to find out what happens on their holiday – just the two of them!_


	8. Two Of Us

Within You, Without You  
Chapter 8 – Two of Us

 

~^~

_Red? No. The black one, maybe? Not in July, of course not. Okay, just white then. No, bugger, I’ll spill something and be a sight for the rest of day. T -shirt, no, polo. No – shit!  
_  
“Harry, just pick a fucking t-shirt, you prat.” Ron watched from the doorway of Harry’s room with a sandwich in his hand as half a dozen shirts circled in the air above the bed.

Disregarding Ron’s words, Harry unleashed his nerves on his best friend.

“Are you _eating_ again? We just had breakfast,” Harry snapped.

“Leave off my food, eh? I was still hungry.”

Harry grumbled as he shoved two pairs of underpants and navy boxers into his kit bag.

“What do you need with-?” Ron began, but Harry held up his wand in warning.

“You do _not_ get to comment on my pants,” he said sharply.

“Well, you’re a fuckin’ cauldron of sunshine, aren’t ya?” Ron took another bite, talking through his ham and avocado. “You better lighten up or Ginny’s gonna kick your arse on your own holiday.”

“I don’t give a kipper’s dick what you think of my mood, Ron. If you’re not gonna help, then sod off. And if Hermione hasn’t left yet, tell her I need her.”

“Grouchy bastard,” Ron grumbled before throwing his head back and shouting. “ _Hermione! The git needs help with his shirts!”  
_  
“Nice,” Harry said sarcastically. He ran his fingers through his hair, gripping a handful at the crown and making himself wince as he looked around.

He felt pressure increasing from every direction and maybe it wasn’t rational, but he was nervous. This was supposed to be a holiday, but it was really a weekend that he hoped would alter his life and he was completely spun up about it.

“Hey now, so are you-?” Ron started in a serious tone, but Hermione entered so he took another bite instead. She was dressed for work, with a satchel slung over her shoulder.

“Honestly, Harry, you could have planned ahead of time,” she said, walking right past his rotating assortment of clothes in the air and going into his wardrobe with her wand out.

“I’ve been _planning_ plenty, just not for my sodding _shirts_ ,” Harry protested.

“Wear this one today,” Hermione said, thrusting a white oxford at him. He immediately tugged off his pajama top to put it on. “Change into this one later tonight if you have a nice dinner. Wear this one to bed.” Harry was sure to avoid Ron’s eyes at that comment. “And this one for tomorrow.” Each of Hermione’s selections sailed through the air, folding and tucking neatly into his bag.

“And pack your green robes, not the black. They match everything and if you spill something, it won’t show as badly and-” She raised his chin in her hand from where he was looking down at his buttons. “They complement your eyes.” She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “Good luck, Harry!”

“Thanks. Wait, what do you mean ‘good luck’?” he asked, but she ignored his last question while she kissed Ron goodbye. Harry returned to his buttons, and then she left. “I don’t know what she thinks I need ‘luck’ for anyway, we’re just going on an overnight.”

“Will you quit being such a wanker,” Ron chided, shoving the last of his sandwich in his mouth. “We all _know_. So come on already, show it to me.”

“Show you what?” Harry asked, his voice an octave higher than it ought to have been.

Ron crossed his arms. “You know bloody well ‘ _what._ ’ I showed you Hermione’s.”

“Well, I was with you when you bought it. That doesn’t count.”

“Does _so_ count. I didn’t keep you out of things.”

Harry wasn’t ready to be pushed so hard on this, so he went for a deliberate change of topic.

“You’ll do the rounds in Diagon Ally, yeah?”

Ron narrowed his eyes at Harry, not missing his diversion. “ _Yes_ , I will.”

“Be sure to ask after Madam Malkin’s cousin for me.”

“Of course. I’ve been investigating this with you since the beginning, Harry. I think I’ve got a handle on it.”

“I know you do. It’s just – I don’t feel right about leaving them.”

“You’re not _leaving_ them. And you can’t _not_ have a life just because some nutter’s terrorizing Diagon Alley. You’ve done everything you can for now.”

Harry grunted, but he still felt a twinge of guilt. The twins had been the real targets when Lee had been attacked, and each attack that followed had been on someone who had helped the Order during their war efforts. It was impossible not to feel responsible.

“You going alone?”

“Nah, George is going to come with me. I’m gonna go by his new place first.”

Harry snorted.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just, _Kensington?_ Kind of posh for a couple of bachelors, don’t you think?”

Ron shrugged. “I dunno, is it? They’ve got enough money, I reckon. Maybe it’ll help ‘em get girls. Merlin knows those two need to get laid.” He sniggered at his own joke, but Harry didn’t bother with a courtesy laugh. He had finished his packing and was fidgeting nervously, tapping his wand on his bureau. “Damn, mate, you’re wound up like Pig. You’re so moody you’re gonna ruin the weekend if you don’t get a grip on yourself.”

Harry sighed and flopped on the edge of his bed, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

“I know, you’re right. Look, I’m not trying to keep it from you, y’know? I just – this is something I’m supposed to do on my own, without your and Hermione’s help. …Except for her picking out my clothes, apparently.”

Harry looked sideways at Ron, took a deep breath and gave in. Ron sat next to him while he reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny purple velvet bag with a silver drawstring. He tapped it with his wand and the magical knot slipped loose, and the contents fell onto his palm.

“Huh,” Ron grunted, sounding surprised. He smiled and put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing for moment just before giving him a shove. “You know what, Harry? It’s perfect.”

~^~  
 _  
_Ginny held onto Harry tightly when he Side-Along Apparated her. Now that they were alone, he slipped his arms around her and pulled her up into a kiss.

“So, are we there?” she asked several minutes later, looking around the grassy area they were standing in. There was a country road nearby.

“Nearly. I was thinking we’d walk through the village if you don’t mind?”

“Sounds good to me,” she agreed, but then looked around them. “Erm, where’s our baggage, Harry? Hope you didn’t leave it at the Burrow. I’d hate to have to go back there.”

“I sent it along to the bed and breakfast. But you’re not kidding about that,” he puffed. “Your mum isn’t too thrilled, is she? She didn’t even kiss me like usual.”

“Bah. Don’t let her get to you. She’s just anxious. It _is_ an overnight trip, after all.” Ginny smirked at him suggestively, walking her fingers along his ribs.

He gave her a quick kiss, but his apparent enthusiasm about their destination had him oblivious to her advances. _He always did have a one-track mind_ , she thought.

“You ready, then? Come on, let’s go,” Harry said, taking her hand and leading the way up the road. “You know about Godric’s Hollow, of course.”

“A bit. We’re somewhere near Scarborough, I reckon.”

“Right. The coast is that way.” Harry pointed with one hand, while happily swinging their clasped hands between them. “For the most part, Godric’s Hollow is populated by wizard shop keepers who serve the tourists. The Muggles never stay too long, so they don’t pay much mind to the wizarding population here. It’s a perfect relationship, really.”

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

“No, it really is.”

Ginny laughed. “I believe you, Harry. A village where wizards and Muggles coexist peacefully – I really like the idea.”

They crested the hill, and down below them lay a tiny village of old buildings with red tile roofs.

“There it is,” Harry said. Ginny stifled a giggle at his adoring expression. He had an air of prickling anticipation about him while just gazing at the town with a silly smile on his face.

“The _people_ here are fantastic, Gin. They’re totally understanding of the Muggles, but it’s more than that really; they claim the roots of Gryffindor himself. Especially after what happened with me here when I was a baby, well, they take it all very seriously. It was a real blow to these people that it happened right under their noses.”

Harry had that feisty look about him that Ginny liked to see. His face was full of determination.

“ _And,_ they don’t gape at me and carry on like in other wizarding places. When I first came here with Ron and Hermione, they were just decent folks. They keep their noses down and go about their business, but they’re friendly too. I think it must be why my parents picked this place.”

“Okay, you don’t need to convince me. I understand,” Ginny said, stepping into his embrace. His earnest determination faded into a sheepish grin when he realized how excited he sounded.

This time she pulled him forward. “What shall we see first?”

“Oh. Actually, about that.” Harry repositioned his glasses, and a tiny worry line showed in between his eyebrows. “I think there’s something we should just get out of the way.”

The first place they stopped was a Muggle abbey at the outskirts of the village. It was the place where his parents were buried. Harry was no longer chatty, and he squeezed her hand as they approached. She felt a streak of pride run through her at the look of calm respect on his face. Harry had borne more than his share of sorrow and pain in his life, but his spirit was always strong.

“Go on if you want,” he indicated with a nod a little ways ahead. “I’ll wait.”

“You don’t want to-” Ginny shrugged. “I dunno, say _hi_ or something?”

He shook his head, scrunching his nose slightly with a tiny smile. “Nah. I’ve done all that. I don’t think they’re really _here_ , you know? They’re always with me when I need them. Wherever you go on that next great adventure, I highly doubt it includes hanging about in a cemetery..”

“Oh.”

“I just mean, I talk to them whenever I want to. Magic has shown me I can do that. This is just a resting place for them. But – you go on if you want.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, and though he didn’t look disturbed, he did look quite stubborn.

Ginny went ahead and stood in wonder at what she thought should be hallowed magical ground. There was no ornate white tomb or eternally burning flame here: just two simple grave sites in a quiet forgotten Muggle cemetery.

Recent years had acquainted her too well with death, but it was seeing _POTTER_ etched into marble that gave her a sick feeling. It was a reminder of all that time she had been so afraid of seeing Harry’s name among the dead.

She looked to James’s headstone and spoke in a quiet voice, not really wanting Harry to hear her.

“I know Harry’s a lot like you, so I bet we’d have got on famously. The bond you had with him must have been very strong; your stag has always been there for him. He’s become such a good man, sir. You would be _so proud_ of him.”

Next, she knelt down and ran fingers over the engraved letters of LILY. She was surprised to see her hand trembling, and unexpected emotion welled up as her vision blurred.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m _so_ sorry that you didn’t get to know what a sweet little boy you had, but I want to thank you for keeping him safe.” Ginny’s whisper was lost as her throat seized up. She rarely gave into tears, but the gratitude she felt towards this woman fell upon her all at once. “I’ve loved him my whole life. I’ll take care of him now. I promise you that.”

Ginny swallowed hard, blinking and trying to sniff quietly so Harry wouldn’t see what a git she was. She stuck out her bottom lip and puffed air onto her face.

When her eyes finally dried, she returned to Harry and they walked silently from under the shade trees and back into the sun. There wasn’t really any more to say about that.

~^~

 

Mrs. Bentley’s bed and breakfast was a two-story building of gray brick with a white door. It looked like it had been standing since Gryffindor’s time, but was well cared for.

“Harry, what’s that?” Ginny asked, pointing to what looked like a round barn behind the house.

“That’s the owlery,” he answered with disinterest. “Mrs. Bentley also fosters owls.”

“You never mentioned that before.”

“Didn’t I?”

Ginny thought it was no accident that Harry had left off that information. He hadn’t been particularly warm to any owls since Hedwig’s death.

A slender witch with olive skin waylaid them as soon as they entered. She looked both quite old and youthful at once.

“And there you are, already!” she spoke to Harry in a surprisingly deep alto voice. “Let me look at you!” She took Harry into a tight one-armed hug, careful not to ruffle what appeared to be a sleeping owl tucked under one arm. “You’ve been eating well, I see. _Are_ you well? I was just beside myself when I got your letter. How are the Ron Weasleys?” She seemed to infer an answer to each of her questions and continued talking fast. “And this must be the lass you wrote about. Hello young lady, welcome!”

“Hello, ma’am. Thank you.”

“Well there’s no question you’re your brother’s sister, is there? Lawks – she’s a bonny thing! Now come here, I’ll tell you, won’t bother with that one.” She waved her hand at Harry. “If you’re anything like your brother, then you’re better with the details, yes?”

Ginny barely had time to register everything the woman said and that she had been asked a question before Mrs. Bentley was talking again.

“Now, all your things are in the two rooms up the stairs and to the right. He booked two rooms - Godric love a gentleman! You’ll have the whole place to yourself anyhow. I cleared the book for ya. Do you prefer lamb or beef? The larder’s full, but there’ll be a supper for you later. Tea things are on the counter, don’t be shy. Ignore the Muggle things in the kitchen and just use your wand, yes?”

Ginny nodded rapidly, looking over Mrs. Bentley’s shoulder at Harry who was grinning. He had the look of someone slightly embarrassed about the antics of a loony aunt.

“Harry told me you’d be going out to the old place, so there’s a picnic lunch. It’s there on the table. There’s Floo connection in the main lounge only – but you won’t want it, will you? That’s why you’re _here_ after all.”

“That’s very considerate, thank you,” Ginny said, peeking at the dark feathered creature that her hostess carried.

“Oh, little Castor here never pops his head for anyone. Don’t mind him; he doesn’t mean to be rude.”

“Is he poorly?”

Mrs. Bentley put her free hand over the sleeping owl, and whispered. “He’s had a hard go of it, I’m afraid: gets jittery around strangers. So don’t be surpris- well, will you look at that?” Castor the owl had untucked his head from under his wing and looked sideways at Ginny. “Now, I don’t believe he’s ever shown himself to anyone since I’ve had him. Like the Miss Weasley, do ya, Castor?”

Ginny reached out to him and the bird flinched at first, but she gently stroked over the ruffled feathers on his head and he closed his eyes and let out a tiny hoot at her touch. Mrs. Bentley exhaled, sounding quite impressed.

Ginny smiled and looked to Harry for his reaction, but he was busy collecting their picnic lunch and wasn’t showing any of her interest in the owl.

After several more rapid fire instructions from Mrs. Bentley, Harry and Ginny were on their way again.

~^~

“This is it,” Harry said, his chest extended with pride. “This is my parents’ land - _my_ land.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow, looking at the stretch of overgrown terrain before them.

“Now I know what you’re thinking,” he said in a hurry, taking both her hands, trying to change her train of thought. “You’re thinking this place is kind of morbid, and that maybe it’s a little creepy considering what happened here.”

“Uhm, well I wouldn’t say _morbid_ exactly.” She didn’t _want_ to hamper his enthusiasm; she liked how passionate he was when he got charged up about something.

“See, the way I figure it,” he pressed on, “my parents picked this place and I completely understand why they did. You can’t argue that it’s beautiful country.”

“No, it is that,” Ginny agreed. The lush hills and moors occasionally broken up by wooded areas made it picturesque.

“Loads of people tried to get me to sell. They thought I’d want to quit the whole place.”

“I remember. I heard lots of that talk myself.”

“Yeah, but there’s just something about it. This was where I was supposed to be all that time.” Harry was being so sincere, but he began avoiding her gaze as he continued. “Even though I didn’t get to grow up here, I’ve been thinking that-” He nervously ruffled his hair. “That it’s still a really great place for kids to grow up, and that, erm… I’d like to raise my own – my own kids here. You know … if I’m lucky enough to have...” Harry’s voice faded so that he couldn’t be heard, and his cheeks tinged pink.

“Harry, love, we’ve talked about this. It’s okay to want to have a family of your own. It _is._ You’ll make a fabulous dad.” This was something she was absolutely convinced of.

Harry let out a nervous little chuckle. “I sometimes wonder if I’m reaching a bit. That whole ‘parent/child’ dynamic didn’t work out too well the first time around.”

“Oh stop it! _That,_ ” she scolded, gesturing in the direction of an old brick chimney, the last remnants of the old house, “had nothing to do with your value as a child _or_ your potential as a father. You have a long life ahead of you, and plenty of dreams to make come true.”

“You think?”

“I _know._ Now, show me around? How much of the property is yours?”

Harry beamed and quickly kissed her before taking off in one direction. He went on and on, telling her about the landscape and the magical animals and about the town. His affection for this location was quite evident, and she happily followed along behind him, watching his arse shift in his jeans as he walked through the tall grass. When he raised his arm to point out the nearest neighbor’s house, she admired how his shirt pulled taut across the back of his shoulder. Those _shoulders,_ which were now so broad and strong.

The property was truly beautiful, but it was the dark haired man in front of her that held her attention. What did she need with miles and miles of green grass when she could get lost in those emerald eyes of his?

After their third pass across the grounds, she’d had her fill. Ginny sat down in the heather, the tall grass nearly concealing her, and waited. Harry’s voice got further away before he realized she was no longer following.

“Gin?” She could hear him backtracking now. “What are you doing? You all right?” he asked, kneeling next to her with a hand on her shoulder. He always touched her so gently.

Ginny tried her best to summon her inner Hermione before she spoke. “This is all very interesting, Harry, but I think it’s important that we find out if there is any magic in this area.”

“Uh, yeah?” He sat opposite her with a suspicious look. “So, what is it you’re after?”

Ginny couldn’t fight back a grin; he just made it so _easy._

__She shifted herself onto her hands and knees and fixed her eyes on him as she crawled, _stalked,_ towards him. His concerned face quickly gave way to a deflated exasperation as he realized he’d been taken in.

“ _You_ , witch, are just as bad as the rest of your clan,” Harry protested, though he stretched out his legs and reclined onto his elbows, becoming her willing prey.

“Hmm, mm.” Ginny nodded, crawling over his legs until she was lying on top of him. She kissed away his smirk, sucking delicately on the bow of his upper lip. Harry made the quietest murmur, and his eyes fluttered shut as she lay on top of him. She ran her tongue very slowly along the inside of his bottom lip and when she claimed his mouth with a deeper kiss, his hands caressed the small of her back.

When they parted from their languid kiss, Ginny sighed deeply. She had intended to hold him down and snog him breathless, but now that she was here she just wanted to wrap herself up in his embrace. She rested her face on the flat plain of his chest and wriggled slightly, settling into him. “See, Harry, there _is_ a little magic here.” It was a pleasant discovery to find that simple snuggling and togetherness could provide such contentment.

Harry stroked lazy circles over her back, and leaned up and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Ginny.”

She heard his heartbeat quicken under her ear, while her own heart was flailing in excitement. How many years had she waited to hear those words? She squeezed him tight. “I love you too, Harry.”

They lay like that for a long time, watching a pair of Jobberknolls nesting in a nearby tree and feeling their skin slowly burn under the summer sun. It seemed that they belonged here, and neither was in a hurry to move.

“Thanks for coming,” Harry finally spoke.

“Mm, I’m glad you asked me. I can see why you’re so thrilled with it. But you know, honestly-” She sat up to look at him again. “I just want to be with you. I don’t much care where we are. I miss you when we’re apart … especially the nights.”

“I know what you mean. I don’t ever want to be away from you.” Harry sat up quickly, shifting her weight to the side and leaning over her. “I was going to wait until later, but I just can’t.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows in question.

“You know, Gin, I really do love Hermione,” Harry began sincerely.

Ginny shook with giggles as she brushed his hair back, cupping his cheek in her hand.

“Really, Harry, you’re going to have to work on improving those endearments.”

Harry shrugged and chuckled at his blunder. “Sorry. See, what I mean is... I love Hermione and your brother; they’re my family. I think some people thought it was odd that I moved into their house, but I didn’t care. Truth is …” Harry glanced away. “I’ve spent my whole magical life with them; I didn’t want to be away from them. But now I don’t need Ron watching my back all the time, and I don’t want Hermione to pick out my shirts anymore.”

“Yes, I can see how that would be annoying,” Ginny joked, poking her fingers between the buttons on his shirt.

“It’s not just that. I want something else now.” He looked very earnest and took her playful hand into his. “I told you on that day you came back home that I’d never let you go, and I don’t aim too. I don’t want to say goodbye to you every night, anymore. I don’t want Ron and Hermione to be the ones I go home to.”

“I understand. I love my parents and my home, but it’s really time for me to be on my own. Actually, I want to be with _you_.” She reached up, stroking his neck and trailing a finger over his collarbone, just wanting to touch more of him.

“Yeah? You’ve always made me feel normal. But better than _normal_ , you make me feel special.” He blew out an awkward laugh. “But not _special_ in the way other people always have; just because they know my name, they think they know _me_. But you do know me, and you still manage to make me feel wanted.”

“You _are_ wanted.”

“I never felt like it. Not wanted for the real me.”

“Oh babe, I’ve known you for such a long time. The _real_ Harry Potter is even better than the _famous_ Harry Potter.”

Harry smiled and leaned down to kiss her again, and then gently stroked a finger over her cheek.

“If you’ll let me, Gin, I’d like to spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy. Even when I can’t - because _I know_ I can’t always - I’ll always stick by your side. No matter what, I’ll always be here. I’ll always love you.” Harry swallowed hard and took a breath. “Would you want to get married? Would you have me? As your husband?”

Harry spoke with an unwavering voice and he held his head high, but she could see a glint of fear in his eyes.

This moment had played in her dreams since childhood, but there was no music or heroics. It was simple and real. This tousled-haired, handsome young man with a tragic past and heart made of a thousand broken pieces wanted her - trusted her with his love and his future. Her warrior was being so gentle and earnest.

Ginny felt a Snitch flutter in her stomach before settling again.

“With _all of my heart_ , Harry, I do want to marry you.” He hugged her, clung to her as though grateful for her acceptance. “You know that it means forever and ever, until we’re old and wrinkly?” she continued. “You know I very well may become my mother? I’m not very pleasant in mornings, and I get short tempered sometimes, and there are plenty of times I just want to be left alone.”

Harry smiled, running his nose along her jawbone and behind her ear before looking at her again. “I could handle that. I think we’re a lot alike in that regard.”

“Then we’ll get married. And I’m going to love you for the rest of my life.”

The rest of the afternoon passed with them laughing and talking easily under the sun.

When dusk began to set them in shadow, they returned and a hot dinner of roast and potatoes was waiting for them. They both wanted to shower off the layer of dust from their lazy day in the grass, and Harry asked Ginny to come to his room when she was ready.

~^~

When Harry opened his bedroom door to Ginny, all his focused concentration from the moment before was thoroughly broken. He leaned his forearm on the door jamb and pushed up his glasses, giving her a smirk.

“Ginevra Weasley, I _told_ you not to dress in anything sexy. _This-_ ” He wagged a finger at her attire. “- is a distraction.”

“What are you on about?” she argued. “I’m wearing a proper nightshirt.” And she was, for the most part: if you called the thin, faded green and gray pinstriped boy’s pyjama shirt ‘proper.’ The hem hung down to her knees and though she had rolled the cuffs, the arms were still helplessly long.

“There’s still the problem of your legs, Ginny,” Harry said, tilting his head to the side and giving her legs a yearning look.

“Do you mean these things?” She lifted the shirt and canted her knee inward, displaying the line of muscle running up the side of her thigh.

“Argh,” Harry snarl-laughed and moved aside. “Get in here, temptress.”

Ginny gave a triumphant chuckle as she entered and after Harry shut the door, she flung herself at him, seizing the back of his neck and claiming him with a hungry kiss.

“Mm. - _Mm_ ,” Harry sounded between kisses as he tried to break away, but was also clearly conflicted about reproving her advances.

“Will you just - just-” He backed away from her with his hands in front of him, pointing her away. “Stop it now. I’m trying to do something here.”

“ _So am I, love_ ,” she said, sauntering towards him. Harry snickered, but then pulled his ‘I am powerful wizard’ face.

“No! You will behave yourself! For at least an hour or two! Please?”

Ginny pursed her lips and sighed. “Oh, very well then.” She spied the items spread across the bed: a stack of blank parchments and a breakfast tray with ink bottles and quills. “Wait a minute, Potter, this looks like revision. I’ve _left_ school; what are you trying to lure me into?”

“It’s nothing like that, come on. You gotta trust me.”

She squinted her eyes at him.

“Woman, could you just not argue for once, please? Come on, I’ve been working really hard on this.”

“Okay then, fine. But you’ve got to give me something.”

Harry huffed as though he was terribly put out, but she knew he would give her the shirt off his back if she asked.

_Actually_ …

“You have to take off your shirt, Harry.”

He chortled. “You’re not serious?”

“I am completely serious. If you want me to cooperate with whatever project you’ve concocted, then you hand over that shirt.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but then resigned himself to accept her ultimatum.

“Okay.” He rolled his eyes, but she saw a slight smile play in the corners of his mouth. “Fine.” He crossed his hands at his waist and lifted the hem of his blue t-shirt.

Ginny’s breath hitched as she watched him expose his tight belly, every etched muscle visible as he shifted. Scant dark hair at his navel beckoned her eyes to travel down where her mind so happily settled.

“You promise?” His voice muffled through the shirt as he pulled it over his head.

“I _promise_ ,” she swore while mentally ravishing his chest. “I’ll go along with whatever, but I get to look at you … like _this._ ” He had discarded his shirt and she licked her lips, wanting to kiss every bit of peach colored skin.

Harry scratched at his arm, blushing slightly. “Are you quite done now?”

Ginny tore her eyes from all his irresistible bare flesh and met his gaze.

“Yes. Right. Let’s get on with it.”

Harry led her to the side of the bed and sat with his back against the pillows. She put one knee on the bed and splayed her fingers over his chest.

“Eh, eh, eh,” he scolded, snatching her hand up, but he kissed her knuckles tenderly. “You can do whatever you want to me - _after._ Now come here.” He took her by the waist and shifted her around so that she sat in front of him, with her back against his chest.

“Hmm…” she moaned, running her hands along his thighs on either side of her, wriggling her bum back into his groin.

“Gin!”

“- _Sorry_.”

“Now, I need you to trust me, and you’ll have to keep your eyes shut tight, all right?”

Ginny snorted. “Do you know how often that line was used in my house growing up? Not a chance, mate.”

“I would never take advantage of your trust. … I’d be too scared to do that.”

“You promise nothing is going to grow out of someplace it shouldn’t or leave a rash?”

“I swear it. It’s nothing like that. Now close your eyes.” She settled against him, and he picked up his wand. “Now, remember when I met you that morning and we went flying?”

“You showed me the sunrise.”

“Right. You told me about the house you wanted. I want you imagine it now. The spell I’m going to perform might make you feel a little off balance, but I’m right here to hold you. You just think about that house, okay?”

“Oh-kay.” Ginny nodded, feeling a bit apprehensive.

He kissed the side of her head and then spoke. “ _Animadverto_.”

Ginny suddenly felt like the bed had fallen out from underneath her. As soon as she startled, she felt Harry’s arm tighten around her waist, felt his breath against her ear.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you. Now think about your house, love. Go to the front door.”

The darkness behind her eyelids cleared as she saw herself approaching a red brick house with a bay window. She walked through the front door and heard a distant scratching noise.

“Harry?”

“You’re doing fine, just keep going.”

It was like taking a Day Dream Charm; this was a place she had idly imagined, but only ever in disjointed images. This was vivid. Everything from the dark wood floors and painted wainscoting looked real. From room to room she walked, feeling like an intruder into someone else’s home, but intrigued by everything she saw because it was just perfect.

“What’s upstairs, Gin? Just keep concentrating.” She proceeded up the stairway, feeling at every minute as though she was going to fall off the edge of a cliff but solid ground met her every step. She didn’t understand the scratching sound she heard and was beginning to think there was a Boggart hiding someplace.

She walked into each bedroom and sighed at the sight of the ensuite master bath.

“All right,” she heard Harry say at long last, reminding her that she wasn’t actually inside this house she was exploring. “You can open your eyes now. Come back.”

“It’s nice here,” she said idly, taking one last look around.

“Yeah it is,” he agreed softly, and she felt his arm once again tighten around her waist. She didn’t realize he had ever let go.

“ _Finite Incantatem_ ,” Harry said and she went wobbly like she had spun in circles, but she leaned into him and slowly opened her eyes.

“That was perfect, Gin!” Harry kissed her. “Look what you did.”

Spread out before them, on several layers of parchments, were sketches of the house. Each room was drawn out in perfect detail.

“This is brilliant, Harry. How did you-? This would have taken hours.”

“Yeah. It’s been almost two hours now.”

“No way, really?”

“Yep. And this?” He pulled the sketch of the exterior entrance closer. “I’m gonna build this house for you. For us, for our family.”

“ _Build_ a house? A brand new house?” Ginny boggled at him, unable to decide if she were thrilled or mortified. “Harry, exactly how loaded are you?”

Harry raised his eyebrows and nodded heftily. “Well, first, I love that this is the first time you’ve asked me that. Second, you know of course that you get everything that’s mine. There are a lot of lousy attachments to me, you know? But you will get all of my money, of which there is quite a lot actually.”

She looked at him, and then at the sketches and then back to him, all with her mouth open.

“I don’t know what to say. It seems like too much. It’s too big.”

“You don’t have to say anything. Just let me do this for us. We’ll do it together.”

Ginny shifted onto her knees between his thighs and faced him. Taking his face into her hands, she kissed him hard. Harry squeaked as she climbed onto his lap, pressing him back against the pillows and rocking her pelvis against him.

“Wait, let me just-” He strained to look over her while he returned her fervent kiss. “- Clear this stuff off.”

Using his wand he sent the parchments and supplies sailing across the room, landing in a rough pile on top of the dresser. With the bed now unfettered he shoved his wand under a pillow and placed his hands on her back, pulling her against him. He leaned up into her kiss, teasing her mouth with his, moaning at the pressure of her grinding movements over his waking erection.

“Been wanting you all day,” Harry said in a husky voice as he rolled them over so that he was on top of her.

“That so?” she asked, as she leaned to the side while he sucked and kissed underneath her jaw. “You’ve been a bit distracted.”

“ _Ugh_.” Harry sat back on his heels. “I’ve been out of my head all day. Petrified.” He removed his glasses and shoved them under a pillow. “Hoping that you’d like Godric’s Hollow enough to live here. That you’d say ‘yes.’”

“You should never have doubted _that_.”

“I know,” he said, reaching for the top button of her shirt. “Think I’m over it now.” He paused after unbuttoning the first two, squinting at the fabric in his hand. “Hey, I recognize this. Ron has the bottoms for this.”

“I know. I nicked it from him after Bill’s wedding.”

“Well, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not have any reminders of your brother in my face while I … ” He popped open the last button.

“While you what?”

Harry smirked and pushed open her nightshirt. He took a deep breath at the sight of her freckle-dusted, porcelain skin.

Leaning onto one elbow, he began kissing her again while his free hand ran up her waist, then ribs and finally cupped her breast. Her skin was warm against his bare chest.

“I love you so much,” he muttered against her skin. The words came easily to him now.

She arched into his touch, running her hands over his back, grasping and pulling him closer.

“Love you too. Love your hands on me.”

He grunted in assent as he squeezed her luscious thighs.

Breathing over the peak of her breast, he saw the the tender skin react before he sucked it into his mouth. He laved it with the center of his tongue while he continued to clutch her waist.

“ _Harry_ ,” she whispered in an aimless plea.

As she slid her fingers through his hair, he slid his hands up the back of her thighs and over her arse. _Of course this would be the time she wears knickers.  
_  
He sat back again and tugged on the white cotton so that she lifted her bum for him to pull them off, both agreeing with a smile in their eyes that they wanted this.

Ginny sat forward to shrug the shirt completely off. Harry snagged it and threw it across the room.

“If you want old pyjamas, I’ll give you some of mine.”

“Good,” Ginny said, leaning up to wrap arms around his waist, kissing all of his torso that she could reach. She dragged her teeth along the sideline of his ab muscles and nipped at his hipbone jutting above his waistband.

The lack of pressure against his hard-on was becoming increasingly frustrating. Harry jumped when her hands dived into the back of his pants and clawed his arse with her fine nails.

Unable to resist any longer, he pushed his pyjama bottoms down, finally freeing his heavy cock.

Ginny leaned back against the pillows. It was such a rush to see that hungry look in her eye that she had for him: for _his_ naked body.

“What was that face for?” she asked, her face showing a rosy hue.

“Just the way you make me feel,” he said as he pushed his pants past his feet and tossed them aside.

“How’s that?”

He shrugged.

“Loved … wanted … sexy.” He hid his embarrassment over the last word by lowering his body onto hers and hiding his face in her neck.

“Oh, you are. You _are,_ ” Ginny promised, holding him tight and kissing the side of his face.

This was the first time their intimate touching wasn’t done past disheveled clothing, through a pushed aside blouse or trousers bunched around knees. They both hissed and groaned at the heat of such complete, unencumbered contact.

Harry sat up, teasing through her auburn curls with one hand while lifting one leg from under the knee. He pressed his lips to her smooth thigh, moving downward. He had to continue, he had to know what it was like.

Ginny bent her knees wide when his shoulders pressed against her thighs. Harry accepted her breathless gasps and arching as encouragement. As his fingers delved into the softness that made her keen, his want out-flew his hesitance and he quickly followed the path of his fingers with his tongue.

“ _Oh_ my - ahh,” Ginny moaned and for the first time Harry had the luxury of being deeply turned by the loud sounds she made, rather than fearing they’d be overheard. He caressed her womanhood with his mouth and his hands, which was so utterly new for him and yet it felt so thoroughly normal. He’d never allowed himself such intimacy before, and now felt foolish for it. This was _brilliant_.

While he worked her sensitive spot over and over with his mouth, Ginny fisted the quilt with one hand and clutched his shoulder with the other.

“Ah, yes,” she whimpered, quaking from his touch.

He lost all sense of time as he slowly learned how to love her like this: licking and sucking, first gently and then with increasing vigor until his motions brought her to completion.

Resting his head against her belly while she calmed, he fought against the urge to rut against the bed. His body was begging attention, and now that she had been fulfilled he couldn’t refrain any longer.

Surreptitiously wiping his mouth he lay over her again, trapping his cock between them.

“Okay, love?” he asked into her neck.

She only nodded, her mouth still open. “I still want you.”

“I know,” he murmured, “want you too.”

Raising off of her just enough to grasp himself, he ran the head of his cock over her parted entrance, getting warm and slick from her moisture. _So close._

He opened his eyes and saw her eyebrows tight with anticipation. He loved her so much: he’d made difficult decisions out of that love before, and he wanted so badly to do right by her.

“’M sorry,” he said tightly.

“‘S ok, I’m ready.”

“No, it’s –want to marry you first.” As he muttered those difficult words, he stroked himself and came against her. He shook and collapsed on top of her in his fatigue.

After he caught his breath, he sat up to look at her.

“Are you angry?”

“No,” she answered quickly, looking a bit disappointed. “It’s a bit old fashioned, you git.”

“I know it. But I really need to be able to look your brothers in the face -”

“My _brothers_? Are they to be a part of our sex life, too? Is that what our life is going be like?”

“No. Well, just this once. Ginny, you’ve got to understand, each one of them has a real ‘thing’ about being honorable. If I want to be able to hold my head high among them, I have to do right by them.”

“ _They_ have nothing to do with _this_ ,” she pressed. It seemed silly to be arguing while lying naked and sweaty together.

“But you sort of belong to them-”

“I do _not_ be _long_ to anyone.”

“I realize that,” he agreed quickly and though she was clearly annoyed, he kept his voice passive. “I don’t mean it to be a sexist wizard thing, but in a lot of ways, you do belong to them. You’ve always been theirs to look after. As long as I can be honest about this, then I can tell the lot of them to sod off after we’re married. I promise, they’ll never be a factor in our private life again.”

Ginny took a deep breath to cool off and shook her head at him.

“ _Stupid, noble reasons_ ,” she muttered.

Harry smiled and then nudged and nuzzled her face and neck playfully with his nose until she finally smiled in return. He magicked them clean using his wand and they slipped naked underneath he blankets.

“Hey, I’ve still got something for you.”

“Something more? I’m already overwhelmed about the house.”

“This is just a little thing.” He scooted next to and slightly behind her, and took her hand. “I’m new at all this, but I’m pretty certain that to be a proper fiancé, you are supposed to have a ring.” Harry slid a band onto her petite finger. It was brushed gold with a delicate vine of shimmering red stone winding along the center. “I could get you something bigger or shinier if you want. I’ll buy you loads of jewelry if you want it, but I just figured nothing could compare to your beauty anyway.”

“Oh Harry, it’s perfect. It’s so elegant and simple. Thank you.”

They lay together, with her head nestled in the crook of his arm, with her hand on his chest. Harry ran his fingertip over and over the smooth ring on her finger, until they eventually fell asleep.

~^~

When they woke in the morning, loving embraces turned into teasing touches, which led to bolder exploring with hands and mouths. Their attentions to each other sated their primal need, but couldn’t completely satisfy the desire to know each other fully. Resistance was not going to be easy.

They ate a breakfast that was sent to their room, and then they showered together, which wasn’t nearly as sexy as they thought it might be in the old-fashioned Muggle bathroom. Each took turns under the water spray while the other shivered in the air and then tried not to fall out of the tub or get the shower curtain stuck to their bum as they traded positions. It was still fun, and it had them giggling on their walk through the village.

Once again at the property that would become their home, they discussed and argued the best situation of the house until they heard the unmistakable sound of Apparition not too far off.

“Dears! Oh, Merlin me, there you are!” Mrs. Bentley rushed towards them, looking quite distressed. “I hoped you’d be here. This just arrived by that fluttery little owl of your brother’s.”

Harry and Ginny looked at each other, slightly skeptical, as he opened the letter she had brought. Pig was of course always ‘fluttery’ and it had nothing to do with urgency.

“Thank you, ma’am, I’m sorry you got alarmed. I’m sure it’s nothing though,” Ginny said.

“It’s from Hermione,” Harry said as he read the letter. “Gin, we need to go. She says your dad’s been hurt. He’s in St. Mungo’s.”

~^~

 

_A/N – I’d like to thank Allipotter and PhoenixAnkaa for their help and encouragement with this chapter, and many thanks to Belovedranger for the speedy and careful beta work._

_I really appreciate hearing your comments. There are genuine answers coming in the next chapter – I promise!_


	9. Carry That Weight

~^~

Harry’s feet felt heavier with every step he took, and every breath required conscious effort _._

Mrs. Bentley had convinced them to return to the cottage and Floo to St. Mungo’s, rather than Apparate - which was probably very wise.

The rest of the world seemed to be in slow motion while Harry was flying fast. He wanted to slow down and prolong whatever heartbreak was about to occur.

“We’re nearly there, I think.” Ginny’s voice sounded distant over the rushing in his ears, and the contact of her hand on his was the only thing that made him feel connected to the planet at all.

He couldn’t even summon the effort to be annoyed by the looks and whispers from people as he passed and certainly couldn’t be bothered to nod acknowledgement like he usually did.

“Okay, I think this is the right ward,” she said. Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. Usually this feeling of dread and panic was accompanied with the dire need to fight and flee. Now there was nothing to be done; he had no task to focus on.

After walking through the doors, it was obvious they were in the right place. Ron and Hermione were down the hall. They were embracing each other and he could see her shoulders quaking while Ron’s face was buried in her hair.

Percy was a little further off, shaking his head while he looked down at the floor.

George’s angry words echoed in his mind:

_“He was tortured and he’s dying, and it’s all your fault! They were after us, because of you! My dad, my brothers; how many times are the people I love going to risk death because of helping you? Even your own parents died because of you!”_

__Harry had thought he could get away from it, live down the cruel accusation, but he couldn’t. Harry froze, unable to face them again.

Ginny turned and moved in close to him.

“Whatever it is, we’ll be okay, Harry,” Ginny said, softly rubbing his ribs.

“I can’t, Gin. What if it was because of me? I just got George talking to me again – I can’t.”

“You stop it right now!” Harry was startled by her tone, and he actually focused on her face. “Did someone ever promise you that life would be all ‘ _Felix Felicis’_ after you killed Voldemort?” Harry’s eyes opened wide. Not many people ever spoke so bluntly about that. He opened his mouth to respond, but had nothing to say, so he closed it again.

“ _No_ ,” Ginny continued. “Life is bloody difficult for everyone: the young and the old and magical and the Muggles. No one gets a free flight, do they?”

Harry shook his head again.

“Now you just pull yourself together. We _will_ have to shovel through shite from time to time, and I need the man in my life to be able to cope with it. Can you?”

Harry nodded. He took a deep breath and Ginny kissed the back of his hand and her countenance softened.

“ _Together_. Come on, love.”

Harry still had to fight the urge to turn and run with every step forward, but he squeezed Ginny’s hand and felt her return the gesture. _As long as she doesn’t let go_.

As they approached, Ron and Hermione looked up; both had red, watery eyes. Only they weren’t crying, they were … _laughing_.

“Oh, you’re here!” Hermione squealed, letting go of Ron to hug Harry.

“Of course. We came as soon as we got the letter. What’s going on?” Ginny demanded.

Hermione stood back, wiping her eyes and looking at Ron with a partial smirk but showing some hesitance.

“Don’t look at me, Hermione,” Ron protested. “I can’t even begin to say it.”

“You better explain what the hell has happened!” Ginny fired off. “Your letter said Dad’s hurt. Now what is so funny?”

“I’m so sorry, Ginny,” Hermione said. “I wish I hadn’t sent that. You see, your mum had owled Bill and Fleur, who Floo called the rest of us. Bill had already sent their owl with a note to Charlie and asked me to send one to the two of you. The Healers didn’t let us know what happened until just a little while ago.” Hermione and Ron exchanged knowing glances again, smiling. “Your dad is fine, for the most part,” she continued. “He took a nasty fall and has broken some bones, that’s all.”

“A fall? Must have been some _fall_!” Ginny said skeptically.

“Yes. Well, it seems that they may have been, ah, creatively using the first floor banister, you know? And it gave way, and they fell.”

“… You’re joking!” Ginny demanded.

“I’m afraid not,” Percy said, strolling up to them, looking both chagrined and annoyed. “Trying to explain what happened to the Ministry without either exposing – ahem, _alluding_ to - what happened or disparaging the condition of their house has been no easy task.”

“Thanks for being careful with that, Percy,” Ron said. Percy nodded with a smile, looking pleased to get Ron’s appreciation.

“Un- _fucking_ -believable,” Ginny muttered. “I can _not_ believe them. Is it really so difficult to do it in a bed like _normal_ people?”

The other three all maintained neutral expressions, but Harry knew they were forming the same question about them.

“Excuse me,” a young mediwitch interrupted. “Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are accepting visitors now. You can go in.”

“I have to get back to work,” Percy said quickly, already walking backwards down the hall. “Please let Dad know that his office isn’t expecting him for a few days and I’ll bring any mail he has from the office later. Good day!”

The remaining four watched Percy’s hasty retreat and then turned to each other.

“Shall we go on then?” Hermione asked. She turned to the doorway, and Harry followed her, though Ron and Ginny didn’t move at all.

“What’s the matter with you two?” she asked them.

The siblings looked at each other, both wearing the same wary expression.

“Erm, we’ll just wait here. You two go on,” Ron said, shifting slightly.

“You know what? Ron and I will go to the Burrow and see if anything needs to be cleaned up. Maybe fix the banister,” Ginny suggested, putting her hand on his arm and beginning to pull him down the hall.

“Yeah! We’ll repair the banister – and maybe strengthen the kitchen table too,” he added, chuckling.

They were both red in the face and backpedaling quickly.

“Right, you just give them our best and we’ll meet you later, okay?” Ginny said, before they both turned and fled just like Percy had.

“Rotten cowards, the lot of them,” Hermione muttered, taking Harry by the elbow. “You know, they _all_ left. Fred and George had already come and gone before I got here. Bill left right away. How could they let embarrassment stop them at a time like this?”

Harry just shrugged. He hadn’t been able to speak a word yet. He’d gone from abject dread, to relief, to trying to fathom the absurdity of the humor of the situation, and he just didn’t trust his voice with any of it.

When they entered the room, Mr. Weasley was tucked into bed, propped up on his side a bit, and Mrs. Weasley was pouring tea.

“Oh, hello, kids,” she said, putting the teapot down. She and her husband smiled sheepishly at each other before looking at them. “Down to just the two of you, is it?”

“Everyone sends their best wishes. They were all just, very, _busy_ today,” Hermione said in an attempt to sound casual.

“That’s all right, dear. We know our children.”

“Harry, are you all right?” Mr. Weasley asked. Harry jerked his head vaguely and wasn’t quite sure what to say or how to look, but before he even realized he was doing it, he lunged at Mr. Weasley and hugged him round the neck.

“Nothing can happen to you,” Harry muttered into the older man’s shoulder. “You have to stay safe.”

Harry pulled himself to standing again and sniffed, unable to the look his future father in law in the eye.

“I’ll be just fine, son. Don’t worry about me.”

Harry managed to twist his face into a weak smile, and then slowly, all of them had a laugh.

~^~

A few days passed before life settled down again, though a heightened feeling of _change_ still hung in the air. The family was thrilled with their engagement. Most nights were spent with Ginny joining Harry at Ron and Hermione’s house.

“Oi! Ron, you there?” came the annoyed voice of one of the twins from the fire.

Ron got up from the dinner table and knelt down to the fire to see which one it was.

“George? ‘S going on?” he asked, using a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“You’re eatin’? Sorry, but there’s a titchy little kid here who won’t get lost. I’ve tossed him out twice now, but he keeps coming back. Insists on talking to you.”

“To _me_?”

“Yeah, and-” George glanced over his shoulder and then lowered his voice. “I dunno, but - he looks kinda scared. Kinda like Harry used to.”

“Hey!” said Harry, protesting George’s remark and kneeling next to Ron. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

George’s face widened into a grin, appearing pleased to have caused an unintentional insult.

“Sorry ‘bout that, mate. But it’s true. When you were a kid, you always had that pissed off beaten puppy look about you. Same thing with this one.” He jerked his head behind him.

“You know, George, could he just be, uh -” Ron scratched the back of his neck, and colored. “Just a - Quidditch fan?”

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, who blushed even worse, but George spoke up.

“I thought of that, but he hasn’t even mentioned Quidditch. Said he wanted to talk to ‘Harry Potter’s friend.’ Will you just shift your arse and get over here and deal with the kid. I’m trying to close up here.”

~

“You coming then?” Ron asked after the Floo flames burned out.

“’Course,” Harry answered. “’Cause if this is just about getting a Cannons’ jersey autographed, I’m never gonna let you forget it.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“You two want to come along?” he asked Ginny and Hermione, shoving several more bites off of his plate.

They looked at each other plainly for a moment before looking back at Ron.

“I think I’d rather stay,” Hermione said.

“No thanks, Ron. I’ve lived through the King Weasley worship once; I don’t need to see it again.”

Hermione stifled a giggle, while she clasped the hook on Ron’s robe. “Hurry back,” she whispered and kissed him.

“I’ll be back soon,” Harry muttered into Ginny’s ear when he kissed her goodbye, a tingling hint of _promise_ in his words.

They took their usual route to Diagon Alley, Apparating outside of the Muggle entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. They both pulled their hoods low and moved quickly and quietly through the pub, which was already getting loud with patrons leaving work for the day.

The joke shop was closed, but they released the magical lock. As they entered, George saw them and silently used his wand to indicate a small boy sitting on the counter. He had dark blonde curly hair and clutched a worn out Quaffle in his hands. When he saw Ron, he squeaked and jumped off the counter.

“Mr. Weasley!” he piped, looking fit to burst.

“Yeah,” he answered cautiously, approaching the boy who seemed even smaller as he stood on the floor.

The boy noticed Harry approaching and gasped. “ _Mr. Potter_.”

“All right now,” Ron said, pulling the boy’s attention from Harry. “Hey, I know you, don’t I? I signed that Quaffle, yeah?” The boy nodded.

Harry remembered the boy as well. He was one of the group who had fawned over Ron in Quality Quidditch Supplies, but this little one had passed along a ‘thanks’ to Harry, something which he hadn’t forgotten.

“What’s your name again, kid?”

“Gordon Whitby, sir,” he said in a breathless sounding voice.

“That’s right. Enough with the ‘sir’ bit now, Whitby. I’m Ron; this is my mate, Harry.”

“Hey, Gordon,” Harry said, with a cheery grin, hoping to look less intimidating.

Gordon gave them a courteous smile, but it didn’t extend into the troubled look in the boy’s darting eyes.

“Did you need something, kid?” Ron asked gently. It was now apparent to them that the boy was upset. He nodded in response to Ron’s question, still gawking at Harry.

Ron looked back at Harry, smirking that the boy seemed so star struck. He shifted on his knee so that he was blocking Harry from the boy’s view.

“Kid?”

The boy swallowed and had to clear his throat.

“There’s a bad man in the Leaky Cauldron tonight.”

“There’s a lot of dodgy folks there, Whitby,” Ron answered. “What were you doing over there tonight, anyway? Shouldn’t you be home?”

“My mum works there now. She cleans the rooms.”

“I see.”

“She works a lot since Dad was killed by-” The boy shot a nervous glance in Harry’s direction. “By _them._ ”

Ron stiffened and took a breath. Harry couldn’t breathe at all.

“By Death Eaters, you mean?”

George had finished his work behind the counter and was now standing close by, listening intently. He had already quit the store of its usual blinking and noisy displays, and discussing Death Eaters was exceptionally eerie in this surrounding.

“It happened when I was little,” Gordon said, gripping the Quaffle. The three men all exchanged quick knowing glances at the boy referring to being ‘little’ in the past tense. “I was hiding when they came to our house, but I heard all of their voices. That man is in the Leaky Cauldron right now, sir.”

“Did you see the man’s face at all?” George asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “They wear those masks, don’t they?”

That was enough for Harry to be convinced. As much as he wanted to deny George’s early snipe about this boy’s expression bearing resemblance to him, there was something about this boy that made him believe Gordon’s claim.

“Please, sirs, I’m telling you the truth. I’ll take Veritaserum if you want me to. He’s there _right now_.”

Harry chuckled. “No one’s gonna make you take a potion, Gordon. I appreciate the offer though. Now listen, can you describe him?”

“I can show you who he is, Mr. Potter. I - I’m not afraid.” That last bit was the first thing the boy said that Harry didn’t believe, but he did have an idea.

~

The four of them were in the small courtyard between the main of Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron. George had taken an aging potion and transfigured his robe that had been a peacock green into a dingy brown. He patted Gordon on the head before entering the pub.

“You ready to do this?” Ron asked, pushing his hood off of his head. And opening his cloak, he revealed his Cannons practice t-shirt.

“Yeah. I hate doing this kind of shite though,” Harry said, pushing his own hood off of his head and brushing his hair back off of his forehead. “You come along in a few minutes, yeah?” he said to Gordon.

“I’m ready, Mr. Potter.”

“ _Harry,_ ” he corrected. Gordon just beamed.

Ron sniggered as they walked towards the door and muttered as they pushed it open, “Smile pretty for the people now …”

As the two made a great production of their entrance, the pub erupted with shouts of ‘Three cheers for our heroes!’ They accepted the drinks shoved at them and shook hands, accepting their accolades with bright smiles, playing the part.

“Tell us the one with the giant squid, Ron!” somebody shouted.

His ears blazed red, but he hopped up and sat on the bar and recounted the tale of dueling with a Death Eater; the fight had been cut short when the lake’s resident cephalopod curled its long tentacle around the Dark Wizard and pulled him under.

Ron was expanding on the heroics and hilarity of the incident quite a bit from what Harry remembered. But more importantly, he knew that from Ron’s vantage point on top of the bar, he could see over the heads when little Gordon Whitby finally entered.

“ … And so I said, ‘ _Harry, just send ‘em all my way. I think the sodding squid fancies me!_ ’” Ron was winding up the crowd, and they loved it.

Harry laughed in all the right places during Ron’s story, but his eyes were on the curly blond head weaving through the crowd.

Gordon tossed his old Quaffle up in the air repeatedly as he maneuvered through the mass of grown bodies in the room. When he rounded a table near the back, he quite purposefully missed his catch, and the Quaffle crashed onto the table, knocking glasses onto the patron who sat conspicuously _not_ participating in the merriment surrounding them.

“Wretched _whelp,_ ” the man snarled. He stood and aimed his wand at the boy, though he quickly lowered it again.

“Sorry, Mister,” Whitby apologized, and he managed to brilliantly knock over the remaining pitcher of ale as he retrieved his errant Quaffle. He backed away from the table and then ran up the back stairs. The boy exchanged a quick smile with Ron from across the pub, and rounded out of sight.

Using his wand to clean the splatter from his own robes and pulling the hood of his robe low over his head, the unknown man left the pub. George, now appearing as an aged man, shuffled out the doorway after him.

Ron and Harry made eye contact, acknowledging what had occurred; now they both just had to hope that George could follow the man, unnoticed – especially if he really _was_ a Death Eater.

Another round of drinks had been tossed back before they were able to thank Tom, who refused to accept any payment, and they bid a final farewell to everyone.

“Bloody hell - seemed like we were in there forever,” Ron grumbled, clasping his robe again.

“Yeah, but you were really _on_ back there. People want that ridiculous squid story every time,” Harry mused, shaking his head.

“Well, it’s a good story.” Ron chuckled, but it was a forced effort, just like the rest of the conversation, because neither was really thinking about the words they spoke. They were looking ahead of them for some sign of George.

“Maybe we should hang on for a minute?” Ron said, stopping where Diagon Alley curved. “We can see in both directions from here.”

“Uhm, yeah. Sure.” Harry shifted on his feet, and looked forebodingly up at the large window over Ron’s shoulder. Ron followed Harry’s gaze and turned to face Eeylops Owl Emporium.

“Oh. Sorry, Harry. I didn’t notice. We can move on a bit,” Ron said when he realized there were a dozen pairs of yellow eyes looking down at them.

Harry thought of how Ginny’s face lit up when she pet Castor the owl. He wasn’t going to be able to avoid owls forever. “No worries,” he said to Ron with a shrug.

“Took you long enough, lads,” George said behind them, and they spun around to face him, now looking his proper age again.

“D’you lose him?”

“Little brother, I’ve been trailing people since long before you became the mighty hero – squid lover. I did _not_ lose him. Followed him half way through Knockturn Alley before I realized who he was. That’s Byron Burke. Old man Borgin’s godson or some such.”

“Burke? And little Whitby says he’s a Death Eater?” Ron said.

“There’s only one thing for it then,” Harry said, already on the move.

~

Harry sensed an eerie déjà vu as they entered the Dark Arts shop.

“We’re closed!” a harsh voice croaked from the back of the store.

“Yeah, just had a few questions,” Ron said, lightly.

“I locked that door,” the man said accusingly as he came forward.

“Wasn’t a very good locking charm, that one,” George said. “You might want to up your security around here.”

The storeowner’s recognition of the three men was obvious, though he tried to hide his alarm.

“Mr. Burke? My name’s Harry Potter, and- ”

“I _know_ who you are,” he said bitterly.

“Right. Well, my friends here and I have been checking on folks around Diagon Alley. Some funny things have been happening lately. You might have heard?”

Burke squinted at them as he moved behind the counter. “You ain’t been coming to Knockturn Alley. We don’t need yeh, or want your ‘help.’ Take yer leave already, why don’ yeh?I said before: store’s closed.”

“Ron, have a go at this,” George said. They all turned and found that he had a collection of shrunken heads doing a mid-air leapfrog.

“Don’t touch that!” Burke snarled.

“Funny. We could improve it though,” Ron added, and he waved his wand, making the shrunken heads begin to sparkle.

Harry inwardly admired the Weasley ability to fluster and provoke anyone in a very short time.

“I demand you stop it! Leave here!”

Ignoring the man’s mounting anger, Ron and George levitated several more trinkets to join the shrunken heads, all the while laughing and bumping into cabinets.

Harry was ready with his wand when Mr. Burke raised his own and cast a hex in their direction.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry shouted, but the man had lunged backwards and Ron and George dodged apart to avoid the flash from Burke’s wand.

George took cover behind a bookshelf, unable to risk looking back around. Ron and Harry ducked behind tables and could see each other from across the walkway. They heard Burke behind the counter, muttering spells.

Harry and Ron looked at each other with furrowed brows. The man spoke the incantation again.

“Is he Banishing things?” Ron asked in a whisper.

Harry nodded. “He’s hiding something.”

They suddenly knew there was an urgent need to stop him. They blinked in mutual understanding and stood, both risking a hex to the face.

Burke glanced up at them, but rather than defend himself, he aimed his wand at a wooden box at the end of the counter and attempted one more Banishing charm.

Ron deflected the man’s spell at the same time Harry shouted, “ _Expelliarmus!”_ causing Burke’s wand to fly from his hand. Ron then quickly turned his wand against Burke, casting an Impediment jinx. As he stumbled into the wall, Harry conjured ropes that bound him in place.

The dusty air felt thick, while the sounds of them catching breath cut through the dismal store.

“All right, mates?” George said, walking up between them. They looked at each other and nodded.

“Mr. Burke,” Harry said, moving towards him. “You have been accused of being a Death Eater under Voldemort, and are being detained by the Order of the Phoenix until Ministry of Magic officials can take you into custody.”

“You haven’t got any proof.”

“No?” Harry said, feeling emboldened by the thought of little Gordon Whitby hiding while he listened to this man utter the curse that killed his father. Grabbing the bound man’s wrist and pushing the sleeve up, he pressed the tip of his wand against Burke’s forearm. “ _Show yourself_ ,” he muttered.

A bright white light flashed, and a pink scar where the Dark Mark had once been burnt shone on the man’s skin. _  
_  
“Deny that, will you?” Harry challenged.

“I’m not ashamed of it! I’d do it again, after what you did!”

“What’d we ever do to you, Burke?” Ron asked, moving closer.

“It’s what you did to my uncle, and to the reputation of this business.”

“You mean _Borgin_?” Harry questioned. “It was because of him that Dumbledore- ”

“-All he did was do what he was told. Let them use the store to get to that school. But Scrimgeour hauled him off and let him die in prison, didn’t he?”

“So you became a Death Eater?” George asked incredulously.

“Everyone had to pick a side. Mine sure wasn’t going to be with you lot.”

“What were you so eager to hide in here?” Harry asked, looking around. “What’d you Banish?”

“Nothing. I dunno what you’re talking about.” The man looked blankly past them, rather like a pouting child.

“Well he didn’t get rid of it all,” Ron said. “I blocked that last one; I’m positive.”

Burke’s eyes darted to the side, suddenly looking nervous.

“Was it this here?” George asked, tapping casually on the shiny wooden box on the counter. Harry joined him, and they used several unlocking spells on the small trunk before it finally clicked and the lid lifted.

Inside was a collection of an odd assortment of items, which might have seemed normal in a store such as this, but these weren’t Dark objects. Most weren’t even magical: a child’s doll, a lady’s handkerchief, a candle. There was a parchment roll that drew Harry’s curiosity. Unrolling it, he read the first line:

_George,  
I know you’re angry but I’m going to write to you every week if I have to. I can’t tell you how sorry I am about what happened to Lee._

__Harry stopped reading there. This was the last letter Hedwig had been carrying when she was killed.

As realization was slowly dawning on Harry, George made a choked sound and he reached into the box. He held up a thin leather necklace with a small stone pendant on it. Harry would never have remembered the thing, but seeing it dangling from George’s hand, he recognized it now.

“Is that-? Is that the one Lee used to wear?”

A blur of ginger passed by him, and all of a sudden George was holding Burke around the throat with a fist clenched in front of his face.

“You did it, didn’t you?!” George demanded. “You took this off Lee after you hurt him!” Burke didn’t have the chance to answer before George punched him in the face, which caused his head to snap back into the wall.

“I - I was after you and that freak brother of yours. Read that news article where the two of you was braggin’ about all you did to help Potter defeat the Dark Lord.”

“But Lee Jordan was just a business man. He didn’t do anything! You almost killed him, you sick fuck!” Another dull smack sounded as George punched him again.

There was frantic ferocity in George’s voice; he sounded wild.

“ _George_ ,” Ron pleaded, grappling him from behind to pull him away. He continued to shout obscenities while striking Burke, who was shouting out in pain. Ron managed to pull his brother away from the restrained man, but that’s when Harry had the opening.

With the image of Hedwig’s poor broken body stuffed into that box, her delicate head twisted cruelly to the side, Harry flew at the man.

“She was a helpless animal!” Harry yelled, sinking a fist into his stomach.

“Just a bloody bird, but it stung _you_ , didn’t it?” Burke antagonized.

“ _Harry_ – damn it!” Ron yelled and pulled Harry back, only to be replaced by George again.

“Fuck all,” Ron growled, struggling to hold Harry back with one arm. He aimed his wand at Burke. “ _Protego!_ ”

George’s blows were suddenly deflected, no longer making contact.

Ron flung Harry in George’s direction, and the two of them steadied each other as they stumbled backwards.

“Come on, fellas, don’t make me the heavy here,” Ron said, standing in front of Burke. “He’s gonna have a trial and be sentenced and we have a whole box full of evidence now, don’t we? He’s just confessed even. I don’t have to disarm you two, do I?”

A small part of Harry appreciated Ron’s ability to keep his head. This wasn’t the first time he’d been able to think clearly while Harry had run off on pure adrenaline and emotion.

Another part of him still wanted to cause Burke more pain.

“You okay, George?” Ron asked, and Harry looked at the older brother. He was pale and shaken. Looking at Ron with almost no expression, he blinked, and a single tear streamed down his face, which he quickly wiped away with the back of his hand.

“I have to go. … have to go home now.” He looked down at the necklace clutched in his bloodied hand.

“Yeah, all right,” Ron said consolingly, as though he were afraid George might burst into flame. “You do that, then. We’ve got this.”

Harry wanted to say more, but his throat was still constricted and Ron seemed to say all that was necessary anyway.

George nodded, looking uncharacteristically somber, and made to leave. He stopped and turned half way back to them.

“Harry, the letter. I’m sorry.”

Harry braced a hand on his shoulder for a moment. George nodded solemnly and then left.

~^~

 

_A/N: I’d like to thank PhoenixAnkaa and KJCP who helped with this chapter, and especially Belovedranger, who patiently turns this into something worth reading. Betas really deserve more recognition and praise!_

_I am very thankful to those who have been following this story. If you are interested, I have begun writing the George/Lee relationship in this story line, in much simpler and condensed style, which can be found on my Live Journal. Thank you for reading!_


	10. In My Life

~^~  
  
Harry went to the Burrow late the night that he, Ron, and George captured Byron Burke after handing custody over to the Ministry. He was shaken and wild-eyed as he relayed what had happened, inadvertently sitting in Mr. Weasley’s usual chair at the head of the kitchen table. Harry didn’t even remember to call him “sir” like he usually did.   
  
Mrs. Weasley had put the kettle on when he arrived, but it was Ginny who prepared Harry’s tea the way he liked it and sat close to him. She patted his arm and kissed his swollen knuckles, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley observed how well he responded to her presence and touch.  
  
By the time they decided to retire to their room later that night, Harry had calmed but his look of longing for their daughter hadn’t ceased. They left them together in the kitchen by the fire and suspected they would have found Harry still there several hours later.   
  
Ron had always looked after their adopted boy, but it seemed clear that Ginny took care of Harry now.  
  
~   
  
She could still feel the current of tension running through Harry’s body after her parents went to bed.   
  
“I love you,” he whispered quietly as soon as they were alone, leaning his forehead against hers.  
  
“I love you too.” Ginny kissed him and looked into his tired eyes. “Come on, let’s get comfortable. I’ll hold you awhile,” she offered, standing up from the table and pulling him along. He made no attempt to resist her instruction, and allowed himself to be led into the living room.   
  
Ginny sat at the end of the couch and he stretched out along it, resting his head and shoulders in her lap.  
  
“I hated being _that_ bloke. The ‘official representative’ of the Order, explaining what happened to the Ministry – everyone gawping at my head, acting like they knew all about me. Just because they know who I am, they think that makes us all best friends. All I could think of was coming straight here to be with you.”  
  
She could hear in his voice how much he wanted to be rid of the burden of being himself.  
  
“Well, you’re here now. You did the job you had to do, Harry. And people are going to be safer now because of it.” She removed his glasses and set them aside, and began stroking away the frown between his brows. He reached with slow deliberation and began unbuttoning her blouse.  
  
Ginny knew what he sought as he slipped a hand inside her camisole and over the swell of flesh. She was pleased that he found comfort in her arms and her breast. Pleased at the feeling of satisfaction it gave her to provide that security for him. She cradled his head in her arms while he rested his face against her bare chest, hugging her closely, occasionally suckling her. The action caused an erotic burn that ached deep in her belly, a feeling that stirred her magic and a protective instinct that was startlingly strong.  
  
“It’s okay, love. I’ve got you now,” she whispered to him, settling back with him, soothing him with her words and her body.  
  
~  
  
There had been talk of an engagement party at first, but the idea had been banished with Burke’s arrest. The disgruntled Dark Wizard had kept the community of Diagon Alley in the shadow of a post-war, post-Voldemort world. Everyone, including Ginny’s family, was still learning how to move on.   
  
In the short weeks that followed, there was intensity in Harry that Ginny hadn’t seen in him in a long time. It was like a summer storm brewing underneath the surface. He held her hand a little tighter and he kissed her a little sweeter and he seemed to crave constant contact with her and reassurance from her.  
  
Though everyone in the family was busy with their own lives, they were all coming for a picnic tea in Godric’s Hollow for Harry’s birthday.   
  
The true reason was actually that they really wanted to see the house under construction. The Weasley siblings all earned a decent living for themselves in adulthood, but building a brand new home raised hesitant eyebrows for a family who had grown up humbly in the Burrow.  
  
The morning was half gone and already warm as Ginny stood before the frame that was beginning to resemble a house. Harry was standing behind her with one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand clasping his wand with hers.   
  
“See, the front door will open right there,” Harry said, waving his wand with their outstretched hands at the open air. The sparkling image of a doorway materialized ahead of them. “And look, the window in our sitting room will look over this way.” He rotated his position with Ginny’s back pulled closely against his front, and they looked at the view of the woods ahead which blocked the rest of the village.  
  
“And our bedroom will have the same view?” She teased him with the mention of their future bedroom, and he knew it.   
  
“Hmm, hmm.” He nestled kisses in her hair and squeezed her a little tighter.  
  
Though the frustration was agonizing, Harry seemed resolved in his wish to avoid further intimacy until they got married.   
  
It was really annoying.   
  
There was a certain charm to it that was so exasperatingly _Harry_ , and in spite of his male-brain-wizard-logic, which failed to make sense to her, all he wanted to do right in the world. So she would wait for him a little while longer. She’d waited on him before, most of her life it seemed, and she was beginning to realize that being patient with Harry was going to be a lifetime task.  
  
A faint _pop_ not too far behind them signaled the first arrival and they shared a lingering private smile and a chaste kiss before turning around and greeting Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny’s mum had her magically deep picnic basket over her arm and her dad was getting around nicely now after his fall, though he walked with a cane most of the time.  
  
A _cane._ Being the youngest of a large family she always knew her parents were older than her peers’, but seeing _her daddy_ bearing the first weaknesses of age was a difficult thing to see.  
  
“Hallo!” Mr. Weasley called out.   
  
“Good morning, sir,” Harry answered him, letting Mrs. Weasley kiss his cheek. “You found us all right, excellent.”  
  
The slight fidget in Harry’s manner told Ginny that he was anxious. The whole family, with the exception of Charlie, was coming here for the first time. Her mum had been on about things like new linens and cast-iron cauldrons, but she knew that for Harry, there was a more serious matter of pride at stake – it was some _wizard_ _thing_ about being the “provider.” All nonsense, as far as she was concerned, but it was the sort of thing that her testosterone-laded family seemed to thrive on and the burden weighed heavily on Harry.   
  
“So this is it, then?” Mr. Weasley asked, gazing with tempered vitality at the support beams and framework that were magically suspended in air. “Harry, you’ll _have_ to show me around. I want to take some measurements.”  
  
“Er, okay,” Harry said warily, looking at the odd tool that her father had produced. It looked like a multi-layered measuring tape with a spinning wheel at the end.   
  
“You have the schematics as well?” her dad asked. “ _Splendid_ ,” he went on, taking the rolls of parchment Harry handed him. “Magical homes don’t get built very often. This is exciting, indeed.”  
  
Harry grinned at Ginny regarding Mr. Weasley’s obvious excitement. He seemed _his_ usual self, diving into a new project with a gadget to play with. Her mother however, had yet to speak and was putting a great deal of attention on the removal of the food from the bottomless basket.  
  
Harry repositioned his glassed, questioning Ginny with a slight nod at Mrs. Weasley.   
  
Ginny shrugged and shook her head, then looked at her father. Harry accepted her silent hint and went along after Mr. Weasley.  
  
“So, Mum, did you and Dad have a row after I left this morning?” she asked plainly, after Harry left.  
  
“What? Oh heavens _no_! What have we got left to fight about?” Mrs. Weasley gave her a meager smile but carried on counting forks.   
  
“Did the flatware get out of hand when you packed it?”  
  
“What’s that, dear?” she asked again, clearly distracted. “I’m sorry, Ginny. After you left this morning, your father and I had visitors.”  
  
“This morning? Early visitors … that can’t be good.”  
  
“Oh not _bad_ either, exactly. Well … it was … George and Lee Jordan came by and … talked to us.”  
  
Mrs. Weasley gave her daughter a testing glance before counting the forks again.  
  
“Oh, Mum … _Please_ tell me you’re okay with it - with them. They’ve been through so much, and George has just been beside himself that he would be turned out by everyone.”  
  
“We’d _never_ turn him out. We’re _fine_ with it. Well, no, that’s not entirely true, we’re not _fine_ with it. There are plenty of things to be concerned about. I don’t _like_ it at all, to be sure, but I can’t say it comes as a surprise.”  
  
“Really? You knew then?” Ginny couldn’t imagine her mother would sit on this information without any fuss before now.   
  
“A mother _knows._ ” Her mother gave her a plaintive smile. “At least, if she knows her children. I’ve suspected for some time now. But I’m concerned about the others. You and Fred already know apparently, but if you’d only seen George’s face, _so_ troubled.”  
  
“I’ve seen it, Mum. I know.”  
  
“He was always a headstrong thing but he’s always had a gentleness in him too, and if any of the boys run him off I swear I’ll just …”   
  
Mrs. Weasley shook her head and started counting cutlery over again, beginning at “one.”  
  
“Mum,” Ginny said, putting her hand over her mother’s. “They’ll be okay. The rest will see that George and Lee are the same chaps they’ve always been. Bill will be fine. Ron won’t get it at first, but he’ll be fine, too.”  
  
“And Harry?”  
  
Ginny considered this. Harry had learned everything he knew about being a man from her family of men, George included.  
  
“Harry will look to Ron, and they’ll both come to grips with it. They’ve suffered the wrong end of intolerance themselves, so I think they’ll come ‘round quick enough.”  
  
“I hope you’re right. Charlie, though …”  
  
“Bah! If Charlie acts like a prig, Bill will take him in hand. You know how it works, Mum.”  
  
She shook her head with a scoffing laugh. “Those boys and their ‘Rules’. It was helpful when they were young: all of them required to mind the older ones. But I expected them to out grow of it by now.”  
  
Two more pops indicated the arrival of Ron and Hermione a little way off, ending their discussion.   
  
“Morning, Mum,” Ron said, kissing his mother while reaching over to pull Ginny’s hair. She hissed at him but he ignored her completely.  
  
“We brought trifle,” Hermione said cheerfully, placing a cloth-covered bowl on the table.   
  
“Oh, did Ron make it?” Mrs. Weasley asked.  
  
“ _Hermione_ made it,” Ron said deeply, cutting off his mother’s tone kindly but giving her a sharp look. Then he added a bit louder for Hermione’s benefit, “And it’s _fantastic_! I’m off with Harry and Dad, then.” He stood his broomstick next to Harry’s and set off.  
  
Bill and Fleur Apparated in front of Ron as he went. Ron grabbed Bill’s arm to pull him along. He resisted Ron’s urging at first but Fleur waved him off, even slapping his hand off away.  
  
“I swear zat man weel suffocate me before I ‘ave zee chance to geeve birth.” Fleur ranted by way of a greeting. “’Ee eez always _hovering,_ always _touching_ , I can not stand eet any longer!”  
  
The girls sniggered at their sister-in-law, whose English was quite good now, though she slipped back into strong French when annoyed.  
  
“He just can’t help himself, dear. He watched Arthur dote on me when the younger ones came. You’ll appreciate it when more babies come along.”  
  
“ _More_? I do not theenk so. I weel smother ‘im in ‘is sleep first.” There was only a moment to laugh at Fleur’s indignance before more guests joined them.  
  
“Top of the mornin’, ladies!” Tonks chirped.   
  
The women turned to greet her, but they had to pinch off giggles.  
  
“Tonks,” Hermione said quietly. “What _are_ you wearing?”  
  
“What? We’re in the country aren’t we?” Tonks shoved her hands in her pockets and ballooned her khaki trousers legs; her fashion for the day was nothing short of safari gear.  
  
“Honestly, the village is just a little way off; there won’t be any Giants coming along anytime soon!” Ginny protested, though laughing at her friend.  
  
“So, that’s the house then, is it?” Tonks cupped a hand over her eyes, blocking out the sun as she looked over at the skeletal structure. “You might consider a roof, Gin. I hear it rains a fair bit up here.”  
  
Ginny grinned. “The whole thing is going up quickly; we’re hoping it will be done by the end of August.”  
  
“That’s when the big day is going to be then, yeah?” Tonks asked.  
  
“Oui, Ginny, when are we going to ‘ear about ze wedding plans?”  
  
“Actually, Harry and I aren’t looking for anything big in the way of a wedding celebration. Just something small and informal.”  
  
“Yes, _small and informal,_ that’s what she keeps saying,” Mrs. Weasley muttered, though clearly loud enough to be heard.  
  
Ginny smiled and rolled her eyes at her mum. “It’s true. The house is enough for us, really. We don’t want a big affair.”  
  
“I should say it will be enough,” Bill said, as the gathering of men had migrated back towards them. George and Lee had arrived with Fred and Percy as well. “You’re a smart girl to snag such a rich wizard, Ginny. That’s gonna be quite a house when it’s done.”   
  
She moved to greet them all with hugs and noticed Harry’s reddened face.  
  
“It’s got nothing to do with snagging a rich wizard, has it?” Ginny countered Bill’s comment, looking directly at Harry. “We’re just rebuilding what should rightly still be standing, yeah?”  
  
Harry’s eyes brightened and he nodded his head. Even right in the middle of all of these people, she knew that smile in his eye was for her alone.  
  
“I do hope Charlie can make it for the wedding,” Mrs. Weasley said, passing around a plate of sandwiches. “Bill, have you heard?”  
  
“Last letter said he’d be here, Mum,” he answered. Though in a quieter voice so his mother couldn’t hear, he added, “But Charlie’s up to something. Don’t know what it is, but I can tell.”  
  
The morning sun shifted into the afternoon sky as they ate and discussed the magical home building and the wedding, Fleur’s expanding stomach, and when the Quidditch season would start again.  
  
Harry received gifts and the cake was nearly gone when Fred spoke up.  
  
“Okay, ours next!” Fred said. “It’s from George, too.”  
  
There were chuckles and a general quiet murmur of “uh oh.” Harry took the package with visible caution.  
  
“Thanks, chaps. I’ll just open this later, yeah?”  
  
“Nuh uh, Potter, don’t be a chicken.”  
  
“No reason you can’t open it,” George pressed. “It’s nothing that’ll hurt.”   
  
Ron got up from his seat next to Harry and patted him soberly on the shoulder, sniggering. “Yeah, I’m just gonna move over here.”   
  
Harry glared at his friend for abandoning him. He took a breath and lifted the lid. He wasn’t the only one who flinched and held his breath waiting for something to happen.  
  
“Ah go on, just look inside!” George said.  
  
“We promised it wouldn’t hurt.”  
  
Harry looked at Fred and George and then over at Ginny once more. She smiled and bit her lip with a shrug. Resigning himself, he slowly peered into the box.   
  
“It’s just a mirror?” Harry said with a curious expression.  
  
The twins both let out their long, sly chuckle.  
  
“I don’t get it?” Harry said, looking up. “What is it?”  
  
But the moment Harry had looked up, the entire gathering gasped.  
  
“Heavens!” Molly exclaimed, while Mr. Weasley chuckled quietly.  
  
“Brilliant, fellas,” Bill said.  
  
“Oh my, that is brilliant!” Hermione said, moving in closer to Harry.  
  
Ginny, however, felt suddenly nauseous.  
  
Harry’s appearance had changed right in front of them. His raven black hair transformed from root to end in Weasley ginger, and cinnamon freckles cropped up all over his face.  
  
“ _Godric,_ what did you do to him?” Ginny yelped.   
  
“What? What happened?” Harry said, feeling his face and looking a bit panicked.  
  
“Look in the mirror again, mate,” Ron said, chewing the inside of his cheek to bite away an obvious grin. “It’s _bad_ , it’s really _bad_.” He chuckled unconvincingly.  
  
Harry looked down and gasped. “Whoa! … _I love it!_ ”  
  
“That’s right, Harry, my boy, you’ve been made an honorary Weasley,” George said.  
  
“ _This_ is what you’ve been working on?” Lee asked, punching George in the arm. “Fabulous!”  
  
“Yeah, see, now you can be one of the family, and you don’t even have to marry our skinny little sister.”  
  
“ _Fred_.” Ginny gave him a shove as she stormed over to Harry. She held Harry’s face in her hands and touched his now _vivid_ hair. “What did you do to his beautiful hair? And his _face…?_ ”  
  
“Ease up now, girl. Someone might think you actually _liked_ the way he usually looks,” Fred laughed.  
  
“What? You don’t like it?” Harry asked her with wide eyes, now chortling with the rest.  
  
“Don’t be cheeky,” she said. “It’s simply _awful_!” The false freckles stood at odd counterpoint to his light beige complexion and his flaming hair, like all that surrounded her.  
  
“Aww, come on, Ginny, you still love me. Gimme a kiss!” he offered, puckering his lips towards her.  
  
“Blech! Not on your life!” Ginny jumped away, looking revolted.   
  
“Come on, Gin, just _one kiss_.”   
  
Harry lunged, and she turned to flee.  
  
“Not while you look like that! You look like my brothers now!”  
  
But Harry quickly grabbed her around the waist, trying to kiss the side of her head while she fought him off.  
  
Everyone, even her parents, laughed at how repulsed she was, but she quickly joined them.  
  
The rest of the afternoon was chiefly spent in the air playing a far from regulation game of Quidditch. The game ended when the Snitch was caught accidentally in Percy’s t-shirt. When the players landed again, they all sat or lay on the grass, catching their breath. Hermione, Fleur and Lee joined them, passing out water and pumpkin juice.   
  
“Much better!” Ginny said, taking Harry’s hand and touching his damp hair that had gone black again. “You two had better not ever do that again,” she shouted playfully back at the twins. “You’ll drive me mental with a gag like that.”  
  
Fred finished his drink and laughed. “You don’t want to threaten me, little girl. You might regret what we could do to him on your wedding day.” Ginny threw him a rude hand gesture with a smile. She had a retort for Fred, but thought she’d not take the risk of jeopardizing her wedding night, just in case.  
  
George crossed between Ginny and Fred’s line of sight and they watched him as he sat companionably near Lee in the grass. Lee handed George a bottle of Butterbeer with a reassuring smile and though Ginny didn’t know exactly what it meant, she recognized the private, unspoken communication that took place between a _couple_. She had seen her parents do the same and she knew what that felt like between her and Harry.   
  
She and Fred looked away from their brother and his lover, catching each other’s eyes, and she nodded heartily in George and Lee’s direction. _Go on,_ she mouthed to him.   
  
Fred seemed to consider his thoughts for moment.   
  
Ginny felt a squeeze in her hand and turned to find Harry giving her a curious look.  
  
“What’s up?” he asked quietly.  
  
“Hang on a minute,” she whispered. “I think you’re about to find out.”  
  
Fred stood up and tossed back the last of his pumpkin juice and looked around the dispersed gathering.   
  
“Listen up, everybody,” he said, cheerfully, with an obvious note of “announcement” in his voice.  
  
The calm chatter quieted as everyone slowly sat up or turned around to look at him.  
  
“You know, maybe now’s not such a good-” George said quickly while getting to his feet, but Fred waved him off.  
  
“Now, I’m only going to say this once, you lot, so open your ears good, got it?”   
  
“ _Fred_ -” George interrupted again, but the twin wasn’t to be stopped.  
  
“My best mates over here”-- He jerked his head at George and Lee. --“Have gone and made themselves a regular old couple, see?” George had gone fairly pale, but he held his head up. “It’s a bit old fashioned if you ask me,” Fred continued. “Settling down, ball and chain and all that, but seems half the family is into that ‘commitment’ gig.”  
  
Ginny looked around and every face had furrowed brows, trying to understand.  
  
“What are you on about?” Ron asked hesitantly, as though he wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.  
  
Fred bit his upper lip for a second, letting a shadow of deeper thought cross his face.  
  
“You’re joking. You’re _not_ serious,” Percy stated, sounding a bit more pompous and accusatory than Ginny had heard from him in awhile.  
  
Tonks was whispering into Remus’ ear, and Hermione looked terribly concerned.  
  
“Absolutely, I’m serious. I’m talking... _his_ and _his_ bath towels, arguing over whose night it is to spell the dishes clean, and I don’t even know how they divide closet space, you’d have to ask them - the whole lot.” Fred was taking a sarcastic approach with a deliberately light tone, but Ginny could tell by the way he was rolling the handle of his wand between his thumb and fingertips that he was quite prepared to use it.  
  
“For real?” Bill inquired, slowly, looking at George. “You’re not putting us on?” She thought George may have turned a little green but he glanced at Lee who now stood next to him and then back to their eldest brother with typical twinish defiance.   
  
“Yeah, that’s right.” George seemed to find his inner Gryffindor, and he turned a healthier shade. “So if there’s got to be something to be said about it, let’s just hear it now.”  
  
There was a meaty moment of silence while everyone waited for Bill’s reaction, which would surely role-model what he expected from the rest of his siblings.   
  
“I haven’t got anything to say, little brother,” Bill said in his calm and most authoritative big brother voice. He gave Lee a significant, friendly nod and George took a visible breath of relief at this. Ginny thought she saw Lee’s hand reach toward her brother slightly, but it never made contact.  
  
“But I don’t …” Percy struggled, looking back and forth from Bill to George and Fred.   
  
“ _Percy_ …” Bill said with a hint of warning in his quiet tone.  
  
“It’s just not …” he stammered again, obviously wrestling with some disagreement with this unexpected turn of events.  
  
“Oh what is it, Percival? Just have it out already,” George said wearily. “I promise there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t already thought of.”  
  
Percy looked around, seeming to hope for someone else to express whatever it was he was feeling. “Do Mum and Dad even know?” he blurted.  
  
“Yes, they know,” Ginny answered, unable to keep herself from expressing some defense for George.  
  
“Yeah, and they handled it commendably well, actually.” George offered her a tiny smile of appreciation.  
  
“And what about your business? This sort of thing affects people, you know?”  
  
“I can’t imagine people are too concerned about the personal lives of the people they buy snack boxes and fireworks from.”  
  
“Besides, Wheezes is between me and George,” Fred interrupted. “S’not your concern, is it?”  
  
“But there’s more to it, isn’t there? I mean, come on - _Ron_ , you know what I mean, don’t you?”  
  
Ron frowned and clearly didn’t appreciate being put upon. He looked at Harry, who was keeping his eyes down, and then to Hermione. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrow at him. Already holding her hand, he rubbed his thumb over her wedding band before he spoke.   
  
“I don’t, I don’t claim to understand it, fellas.” He ran a hand over his hair and scratched behind his ear while he talked. “I really don’t get it at all, to be honest. But I know there are some who don’t think I should be with Hermione and that’s completely mental, so I guess I haven’t got anything to say. Whatever twigs your twigger, I reckon.”  
  
George cracked the closest thing to a true grin since Fred had brought it up.   
  
“Thanks, Ron.”  
  
Ginny looked to see how Harry was reacting, but he was studying his trainers. She squeezed his hand, and he looked up at her with a look of reluctant confusion etched on his face.   
  
“Yes, and you two are welcome to come for tea anytime,” Hermione offered, which made several people snicker.  
  
“Thanks,” George chuckled nervously.  
  
“Yeah, we appreciate that, Hermione,” Lee answered. It was the first time he’d spoken, and all the brothers seemed to consider him for a moment. Lee ran his hand over his mouth to regain his composure under the scrutiny. Ginny had never seen him look too flustered before, but he seemed on a thread now.  
  
“Poor, Lee,” she whispered so only Harry could hear her. “All my stupid brothers are staring at him.”  
  
“Hey, Lee, you still got that scar on the back of your hand?” Harry piped up.  
  
“Huh?” he responded clumsily, surprised at being addressed with something so random, but he squinted and focused on Harry’s question. “Oh.” Lee looked at the back of his hand and chuckled. “Yeah, actually. Detention with Umbridge, seventh year. Yep, still got it.”  
  
“Filthy cow, that bitch was,” George stated plainly, wincing and shaking his head at Lee’s hand.   
  
Ginny lifted Harry’s hand that was clasped in hers to see the words of his defiance still lightly etched there.  
  
“Yeah, this one used to be my nastiest scar,” Lee said, still looking at his hand. “But now I’ve got this beauty.” Extending and rotating his arm, a stark patch of white was visible above his elbow amid the smooth darkness of his skin. “Apparently this is what an Igneus Hex does to you if it sets in real good.”   
  
The air seemed to have thickened again, as no one was sure how best to acknowledge Lee’s injury: the very situation that had caused such a rift between Harry and George as well as apparently being the cause that brought Lee and George together.  
  
“Nothing wrong with a good scar,” Fred chimed in, looking closely at Lee’s arm. “And see? You’re all pale on the inside; you look like you’ve got Weasley in you now.”  
  
A lingering uncomfortable pause was followed by a general choking sort of laughter at Fred’s innuendo. George gaped at him but he also sniggered, punching his brother in the arm.  
  
“I dunno, I’m pretty certain I maintain rank in the ‘scar department,’” Harry said, pushing his hair back, clearly referring to his legendary lightening bolt. Ginny recognized Harry’s self-deprecating masculine bravado as an attempt to deflect focus from Lee. He could at least identify with Lee’s position as a, well, as a _boyfriend_ in the family.  
  
“Nuh-uh, Harry, you’ve got your longevity out of that one, I think,” Ron stepped in with his own quip. “Being attacked by a maniac as a baby doesn’t mean you earned it.” These were teasing words that Ron alone could have said. “Now these,” he added, displaying the pink trails that wrapped around his forearms. “Are scars that came from actually _doing_ something heroic.”  
  
“Since when is getting Confunded doing something heroic?” George asked, playing into the game.  
  
“Oi, I was _fifteen_.” Ron put on false offense. “Getting Confunded instead of _killed_ is not bad, I’d say.”  
  
“I’ve earned plenty of scars in my time, but the worst was inflicted on me when I was only a child,” Remus said quietly, making Ginny wonder what he’d been like with his friends.  
  
She suspected he didn’t want conversation to linger very long on the night Ron got his scars. But her old professor looked like he enjoyed the banter among the men in her family.   
  
“Yeah?” Bill quizzed. “Go on then, old man, let’s see it.”  
  
Harry and Ron’s eyes shot up and they exchanged “Christmas morning” type expressions before looking back at Remus. He seemed to be debating the action before his lips twisted into a grin. Shaking his head slightly as though he couldn’t believe he was doing it, he tossed aside his cloak. Even Bill let out a slightly juvenile snigger in the anticipation of this legendary scar being revealed. Yanking his shirt up in the back, Remus turned and displayed a jagged crescent of thick white scar tissue above his right shoulder blade. Admiring gasps of _wicked_ and _excellent_ were murmured among them as they all moved in for a closer look.   
  
“Yes, well …” Remus said, straightening himself again. “There, you all have had a better look than most. But not bad, I suppose?”  
  
“Not bad at all,” Tonks said, giving him a pinch that made him rise on his toes.  
  
“It’s impressive and all, mate, really,” Bill said, though his voice didn’t belie a cheeky tone. “But at least you can hide that pretty little thing you’ve got. Tell me this isn’t the goriest thing you’ve ever seen?” Then Bill swept his shaggy hair up with one hand, revealing the deep marks that cruelly cut across his face. The boys eagerly jumped at the chance to pointedly look and gasp and feign their exaggerated horror, while Fleur rolled her eyes.  
  
And so it went, with everyone finding a common ground through injuries and injustices. Each of them had a weakness, some private insecurity that convinced them that they alone suffered. Even Percy showed off a chipped front tooth and let everyone laugh about how Charlie had made it that way.   
  
There would surely be more reluctance in the future, but as everyone left, they hugged or shook hands with George and Lee and congratulated Harry and Ginny on their engagement and the house.  
  
“You gonna be late?” Ron asked Harry, just before Disapparating with Hermione.   
  
“No, _Dad,_ I’ll be home early, I promise,” Harry mocked. “Nah, we’re just going to fly a little.”  
  
  
~^~  
  
The landscape stretched out for miles in every direction. With Ginny astride the broom in front of Harry, they took turns taking control of the flight. Each time, one tried a move more daring than the last, leaving them screeching and whooping with amusement.  
  
The setting sun caused the first purple shadows to creep along the hills below and the air began to cool.  
  
“Here, Harry, you take the handle now.”  
  
“Really? You’re giving up already? I win then!” he declared in mock arrogance. “ _I’m a better flyer than Ginny Weasley_!” he shouted into the air.  
  
“Prat,” she said. Bracing herself, she swung one leg over the front of the handle, sitting sideways.  
  
“What are you doing?” Harry tightened his grip around her waist, slowing their flying speed. “Let me stop first if you want to get off.”  
  
Ginny just sniggered at his choice of words. She held onto his shoulders and pulled her second leg over, careful not to kick Harry between the legs, and was now facing him on the broom.  
  
Harry’s eyebrows were raised, still anxious about her falling. But when she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled herself nearly into his lap, he chuckled.   
  
“Oh! Now this _is_ better,” he said, nuzzling the side of her face and her neck. “Very clever witch.”  
  
Ginny tilted her head to the side as Harry kissed her temple, and she slipped her hands up under the back of his shirt.  
  
Running her hands up his naked back, she felt the muscles along his ribs flex. Grinning and nipping his earlobe, she stroked over the curve of his shoulder blades, remembering what it felt like to have his naked body against hers.  
  
He let out a slight hum of contentment and Ginny felt him tighten his stomach as she dragged her fingers across the front of his abdomen.   
  
“So tell me, Harry; you’ve spent a lot of time on a broom …” He gasped as her fingers dipped into the front of his trousers. “Have you ever come in mid-flight?”  
  
Harry let out a slightly shocked chuckle, and glanced at her briefly before looking away. She knew perfectly well that he didn’t mind doing these things, but _talking_ about them seemed so much _dirtier._ Making Harry blush was becoming her guilty pleasure.  
  
“Uh – _no,_ actually. Not a lot time for that when you’re dodging Bludgers.”  
  
Ginny sucked on all the salty skin she could reach inside the opening of his collar, and she had his trousers undone with practiced agility.   
  
“I –I can land…” Harry was losing focus on flying by the trick her tongue was doing, not to mention her fingers, and the broom swerved.  
  
“Oh no you don’t. You keep your handle up.” And she smiled against the softness of his skin as she slid her hand inside of his pants. His burgeoning erection was trapped awkwardly until she freed him and began caressing it. She teased her fingers through his hidden coarse hair and gripped him tightly.  
  
Harry exhaled and bowed into her, growling a weak protest. “ _Woman …_ ”   
  
“It’s okay, Harry.”  
  
“You want me to?”  
  
“Yes. There’s no one for miles, love. Just let go … ”   
  
And he did. The lavender tinged earth below became a blur and gave way to the flurry of red hair in front of him. Her tiny hand stroked vigorously along his length, squeezing and pausing at the just the precise moment to peak and prolong his need.  
  
Ginny reminded him what it was like to take risks just for fun again. He finally felt young again, with the wind rushing past him, his beautiful witch in his lap, a broom handle in hand, and _his handle_ in hers. She pulled on his length while raking the nails of her free hand over his chest, teasing a nipple. Harry clung to her as the intensity of his mounting climax built within him.  
  
“Oh _god,_ Gin …”   
  
“Love you,” she breathed against his ear. “Love you, you’re gorgeous when you fly, Harry. I _love_ you.” Her sincere, rambling words overflowed his heart, and his body followed as he came, spilling over her hand between them.   
  
The first evening star lit the sky when they finally landed. Both of them were out of breath, feeling wild and safe in each other’s company. More importantly, they had learned to control the broom together, equally.   
  
  
~^~  
 _  
  
A/N – I am very honored that Within You, Without You won the HPGW_OTP Best of 2006 – Novel Length Award. Thank you very much!  
  
I must thank my dedicated beta BelovedRanger, who has been working with me on this story for nearly a year now. I’d also like to thank KJCP, PhoenixAnkaa, and Quizzical for their help with this chapter.  
  
For those that are interested, I am writing George and Lee’s side of this story, titled The Glass Onion, which can be found on my Live Journal or at The Quidditch Pitch. Thank you!  
_


	11. Don't Let Me Down

Within You, Without You  
Chapter 11 – Don’t Let Me Down

~^~

“Of _course,_ he’s like a brother to me, you know that,” Ron said, beginning to lean more of his weight on the elbow resting on the table. “He means more to me than any one of our brothers, truth be told.” He held up a long, warning finger. “- Just don’t ask me to repeat that in front of the lot of them - but no one knows more than I do, Ginny. Harry’s … broken.”

“ _Ron_ ,” Ginny scolded, feeling her body temperature rise. She’d been prepared for brotherly warnings or well wishes perhaps, but not criticism of her Harry.

As this conversation was proving, she now realized there was some unclear delineation between _her_ Harry and _Ron’s_ Harry.

Ron waved a hand with a deep, knowing nod, but continued speaking as he refilled their glasses. Just as he had for the last two hours, he filled Firewhisky to the top of his and hers only half-full.

“It’s just that... he’s got hurts and haunts in him, Harry does, that may never get better,” he said, wincing as he swallowed.

“You never let anyone say a word against Harry,” Ginny said. “You almost knocked George flat out over how he treated him. And now _you_ , of all people, are going to warn _me_ about dangers of marrying him?” Ginny was feeling very hot, but considered that it might be from the whisky rather than temper.

“Well, now don’t get me wrong,” he countered defensively, his tongue and manner thoroughly loosened by drink. “Harry’s still my mate. That’ll never change. If he gets it into his head to go battle – _things_ \- again, he knows I’ll be there on his right side, without question.” Ron put his glass down and leaned on his arms across the table and lowered his voice. “But when it’s when ya come home, sister, during peace time…” Ron shook his head slowly, glancing at her face, but not quite meeting her eyes. He looked guilty. “A man lets out his real burdens to his wife, you know? When he can’t offload his anger at the bastard grieving him, he takes out his foul temper on his wife, too, cause he knows she’s the one person who’ll still love him even if he acts like an arse once in awhile. And sometimes...” His ears pinkened a bit, which was unlikely from the drink, she thought. “Sometimes he’ll cry his heart out in her arms ‘cause he knows she won’t think he’s less of wizard for doing it.”

Ron dropped his head, looking as though he felt relieved of a burden, and scratched at a groove in the table.

Ginny’s fingers unconsciously pressed over her heart, so tender was her brother’s confession. Seeing Ron, not as just another brother, but as a man himself who was in love.

“Since when did you get so sensitive, Ron?” Ginny said, reaching her other hand to touch his.

His shoulder and the corner of his lip both shrugged upward as he considered the last of the liquid in his glass. “Dad told me.”

“Ha!” Ginny laughed, noticing her feet were beginning to feel heavy under the table. “And here I thought you’d gone all wise without my noticing.”

He sniggered. “Nah – but I _have_ been married myself for awhile, and it does seem to be true. The person you’re married to sees the ugliest part of you – and I’m not talking ‘bout _that!_ ” he added when Ginny opened her mouth with a glint in her eye. “Filthy mind,” he muttered good-naturedly. “ _She’s_ not the easiest person in the world to be with either, mind. My girl’s got some rough edges that are none too pretty herself. But that’s okay with me, you know?”

Ginny nodded, staring at her brother’s mouth as he spoke.

“What are doing? Stop it,” he said, and only then did she realize that she was silently mouthing every word he said.

“Sorry.” Ginny clamped a hand over her mouth. She was trying to pay close attention, feeling that Ron was saying something of importance, but as she focused on him the left side of his face went blurry. She blinked hard and his face – or her vision, rather, cleared up again.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, waving a hand in front of her.

“I am! Really, Ron, please continue,” she assured, feeling the strange sensation of her slightly numb tongue, inspiring her to say _‘con tin ue’_ a few more times.

“So all tha’ ‘m tryin’ to say, is tha’ you fancy a real messed up bloke. I mean, Ilovehim, but he’s trouble. So wha’ ‘m sayin’ is, is from now on, he’ll be _your_ trouble. Not mine. ‘s all ‘m sayin’. Get it?”

“Get it.” Ginny nodded solemnly. “-Er, _got_ it _._ ”

“k’ now, I think yer talkin’ funny. You mus’ be drunk,” Ron declared, looking at the empty bottle on the table next to them.

“I … am … no … such … thing,” Ginny said with slow and deliberate enunciation.

They looked at each other very seriously.

His nostril flared. Her lip twitched. Together, they burst into hysterics.

~

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked Harry with accusation as he walked into the kitchen.

Harry glanced behind him before looking back at her.

“Blimey, I know I’ve worn out my welcome, but I do still live here.”

Hermione tutted and smiled at him. “You haven’t worn out your welcome – we’re going to miss you. But Ron left a bit ago with a bottle of Firewhisky and he didn’t change his shirt, so I assumed he was meeting you.”

“Oh! No, he’s meeting Ginny. - He took a bottle of Firewhisky?”

“Yes.”

“Well, if he was meeting _me_ he would have brought _two_ bottles.” Harry winked.

“Hmm. Come here, try this.” She stuffed a wooden spoonful of chocolate in his mouth. “I’m trying something new.”

So Harry found himself enjoying an evening alone with Hermione, knowing that these moments of easy conversation in the kitchen that he’d grown accustomed to since he moved here were nearing an end. He happily ate Hermione’s latest experiments in cooking, which was to melt chocolate and drizzle it over biscuits. It wasn’t proper ‘baking’ as far as Mrs. Weasley was concerned, but Harry disposed of Hermione’s research until his stomach ached.

“I’m not sure what Charlie’s opinion would be,” Hermione was saying as she poured tea, “but I’ve read that rather than striking the dragon with the charm directly, if you aim instead at the-” She was interrupted by the sound of the fireplace erupting into use. “Oh, that’ll be them, then,” she said, and they both turned.

The green flames flickered and swirled for just a moment but then died out with no sign of anyone within.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in bewilderment.

“Well that was odd,” she said plainly.

“I’ll say.”

There was no need to ponder the empty Floo for long before the hearth blazed again. A tangle of pale freckly arms swirled into view before them. They weren’t standing in place for even a moment before Ron and Ginny swayed and fell head long onto the floor at Harry and Hermione’s feet.

“They’re bloody pissed!” Hermione gasped.

Harry chuckled at her exclamation. “So it seems,” he agreed, looking down at them.

Ginny and Ron were twisted together, wracked in gales of silent laughter, tears streaming down their faces. At last, they reached a breathing point, gasped for air and resigned themselves to their horizontal position on the floor.

“We fell,” Ginny offered, by way of obvious explanation.

“Twice!” Ron added, which set them off into fits again.

“ _Hell_ ,” Harry said, rubbing his nose. “Is this what Ron and I smelled like when we came home stonked?”

“No. Ginny smells a great deal better than you did.”

Harry knelt beside them, delicately untangling Ginny from her brother’s ridiculously long limbs.

“Haar-ry,” Ginny gasped with an exuberance of affection, cupping Harry’s face in nothing short of moderate slap.

“Hi there, beautiful,” Harry said with a wince, rubbing his cheek and gathered her into his arms. “Have a good day?” he asked casually.

“Harry, we were _just_ talking about you,” she said, nuzzling her face into his chest as he heaved her off the floor.

“Is that so?” he answered her gently, though giving Ron a stern look.

“Nothing but good stuff. I swear!” Ron effused with wide eyes from his place on the floor.

“Yeah, right. _You._ ” Harry pointed an accusing finger at Ron from under his grasp on Ginny’s legs. “Went and got my girl rat-arsed without me.”

Harry was joking with Ron, however serious he sounded.

“Had to get her good and soused to find out wha’ she really though’ of ya. But I only poured her half of wha’ I had maself.”

“Good thing, that. She’d have been pickled otherwise.”

Ginny giggled against Harry’s chest.

“ _Pickled_ ,” she repeated and dozed against him.

Harry kissed her forehead gently and turned to carry her out. A niggling anxiety pricked down his spine as Ron’s comment sunk in and he turned back.

Ron was peeking down Hermione’s blouse as she leaned over to pull him up. He blinked up at Harry, meeting his questioning eyes.

There was a pause between the two of them before Ron’s face softened into a wide grin.

“Ah,” he said, understanding. “She’s mad abou’ ya, mate. No worries.”

Harry dropped his eyes and cleared his throat to subside the embarrassing concern he’d felt.

“I’ll get her squared away, and come back to help you with him,” Harry told Hermione as he maneuvered through the kitchen, careful not to sweep the chocolate off the counter with Ginny’s feet.

“That’s quite all right, Harry. If I can manage to get the two of _you_ to bed when you’re snockered, I can handle Ron alone.”

As he went up the stairs, he heard Ron make a rude comment about Hermione ‘handling him’ which was followed by a dull ‘thwap.’

Harry gently undressed Ginny down to her slip-dress and deposited her into his bed. Then he dug through his top drawer to find a brown bottle of restorative potion. Turning it over in his hand, he mused that it had been several months since he’d used the tonic himself.

“There now, you’ll feel better soon,” he said after giving her a dose, pulling the blanket up to her shoulders. “But you’ll still need to sleep it off.”

“Hm,” Ginny purred, smiling with eyes closed as she tilted her face into his hand. “Sleep with me?” she asked, pushing the sheet back in invitation, before breaking into an ungraceful yawn.

This time Harry suppressed a reticent chuckle at her double entendre. _So tempting_. He’d like nothing more than to undress and climb into bed next to her petite body. The warmth of the Firewhisky made her glow. Her lips were deep burgundy as were the peaks of her breasts, which showed through the thin cotton covering her. Her upper thigh was exposed as well, and he felt his body stir at the sight and quickly pressed a hand to his groin to stifle the aching reaction. Not tonight.

“Sure, love, I’ll sleep next to you,” he said softly, brushing her hair back. “But I’ve got to Owl the Burrow first. Don’t want them to worry.”

“Oh-kay,” she sighed, closing her eyes with a faint smile.

“Did you have fun tonight?” he asked, knowing quite well himself how sharing a bottle with Ron seemed to set the world right again.

“I really did.”

“That’s good. Are you feeling better now?”

She didn’t answer. Smiling happily, Ginny settled into Harry’s pillow and slept.

He pressed a kiss to her temple, pausing with his lips against her skin, trying to suppress the rush of emotion and excitement welling up in him. “Three more days, love,” he whispered.

~^~

The house loomed large around them. The warm red bricks of the fireplace were accentuated by the rich alder berry mantle piece. The small panels of amber stained glass inlaid in the heavy oak door cast a warm glow on the cream paper lining the walls.

Harry and Ginny both felt very small in the vast space of the unfilled house and sought out the alcove of the living room window-seat. Ginny lay curled into the space next to Harry with her head in his lap. Massaging her scalp, he made tiny circles over the crown of her head, fluffing up her hair. She had a vertical crease between her brows that he began to stroke with his thumb.

“So, is _this -_ ” He indicated with his thumb. “- because of the headache, or because of the house?” Harry asked quietly, to minimize the echo effect of his voice throughout the house.

“Headache. Oh, that feels good.” She looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “The house is beautiful, Harry. Better than I had dreamed. Quite hard to believe that it’s meant to be for _us._ I haven’t earned this. Oh– but _you_ have,” she added quickly, reaching up to touch his cheek. “You deserve this. It was proper to rebuild what should have been your parents’ home. I’m glad we’ve put back what Godric’s Hollow lost, too.”

Harry cupped the side of her face, and she slid her hand from his cheek into his hair and pulled him down. Folding himself near in two to kiss her, he took his time, enjoying the heat of her mouth and the taste of her. Feeling the subtle movement of her hand into his hair, pulling him imperceptibly closer, and drawing their kiss deeper.

Ginny shifted her head slightly and giggled.

“Sorry,” Harry said softly, sitting up wriggling a bit.

Ginny turned and pressed her face against the firmness in his trousers.

“We haven’t had a moment’s privacy in a week,” she murmured, teasing him by opening her mouth and breathing onto the evidence of his arousal. Her hot moist breath filtered through the material of his thin trousers and he throbbed with the desire to have her mouth on him. “And Ron and Hermione are due any moment.”

“God, I know it,” he moaned and the sound came back to them louder as it ricocheted off the walls. “But it’s just as well. Feels like the house is watching us, doesn’t it?”

Ginny, more accustomed to the reality of such possibilities, looked up at him sharply.

“It doesn’t do that, does it?” she asked.

“No.” He smiled. “Magically sound and fairly well-protected, but no _eyes_.”

“Oh, good,” she sighed, relieved.

They looked around the house again. Long rays of afternoon sunlight streamed across the shiny, hardwood floor, making the tiny dust particles floating in the light look like pixie dust. The house did feel alive, humming with the energy of a new magical entity not yet awake.

“Hello?” called Hermione’s soft voice tentatively from the front door.

“Come in,” Harry answered quietly, preserving the silence.

Hermione let out a whispered _‘Oh my …’_ as she looked around, as impressed with the sight as they were.

“Wicked!” Ron exclaimed loudly, startling everyone out of their quiet reverie.

With a devious chuckle, he charged directly up the stairs, each pounding footstep reverberating off the walls. They winced as they listened to him clomping his way around the second floor, from room to room.

“Bugger me – what do you need _two_ toilets for?” he shouted, sounding far off, but perfectly clear.

Once at the top of the stairs again, he hopped onto the banister and slid all the way down, hands outstretched for balance. Whooping loudly, he landed with a terrific ‘whump.’

“What?” he asked, looking at the three sets of eyes blinking up at him. “Harry, don’t tell me you haven’t tried that yet?” He pointed back at the banister.

“Not … yet,” Harry admitted, thinking that it did look fun, in spite of an annoying grown up part of him that was thinking, _if it breaks, I’ll have to fix it._

“Ginny, you can’t possibly still be hung over from last night,” Ron said, noticing her lying on Harry’s lap, and he reached toward a strand of Ginny’s hair. “Ow,” he yelped when Harry smacked Ron’s hand away and he retracted it, sucking his knuckle.

“No, just a vicious headache,” Ginny said with a sigh and sat up. “I thought it was the Pomegranate juice.” She rubbed her forehead. “But now I think it might be the Mugwort.”

“Hermione gets headaches from Mugwort,” Ron observed. “But that’s from-” A comprehension dawned in his eyes and he looked down at the floor. “ _Ah._ ”

Harry’s insides twisted with the awkwardness that Ron apparently felt, but the women seemed oblivious of it.

“Try putting a few Queen Anne’s Lace seeds in it, that might help,” Hermione suggested. “Makes it more effective, too.”

Ginny stood, and she and Hermione continued discussing the various ingredients of contraception potion.

The longer Ron stared at his feet, the more Harry felt his face heat up, but he struggled to find his voice. He was determined not to act like a teenager about this; he was about to be a married man, after all. He quietly cleared his throat.

“The potion’s effectiveness hasn’t been tested yet, you know?” Harry muttered. “ … Wedding isn’t for two more days,” he added, trying to make his point.

Ron then raised his head.

“Oh?” He grinned, and shoved Harry’s shoulder. “Oh! Good man! I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Harry ‘harrumphed.’

“What are you talking about?” Ginny asked, looking at them suspiciously.

“Nothing at all, little sister.”

Ron draped an overly proud arm over her shoulder and patted the top of her head, to which she reached up and with exact precision, twisted his nipple, making him shriek.

“How about you two start bringing in the furniture, and we’ll sort out the kitchen?” Hermione suggested, trying to break up the lingering pinching and hair pulling between the siblings.

“Yeah, all right,” Ron said, rubbing his chest as he walked towards the door. Ginny pulled a face at him, still rubbing the crown of her head.

Harry and Ron went into the garden where a great assortment of furniture and boxes, most of which were wedding gifts, had arrived. There had still not been any formal public announcement of the wedding, but their close friends and acquaintances had been made privy to the nuptials, and furniture of all variety had begun appearing that morning. Nothing was new; it was all antiques, as it was good luck in wizarding tradition to give a bride and groom something from the family. Harry assumed this partially explained why everything in the magical world seemed more old-fashioned.

“Guess we won’t see much of you at the house, anymore,” Ron said, levitating a table and carefully maneuvering it through the front door with his wand.

“Yep, you’ll finally be rid of me,” Harry joked.

“’Bout bloody time, too!” Ron smiled.

He followed Ron into the house, levitating the six matching chairs along behind him.

“And Bill still believes that it’s a woman, then?” Hermione was asking.

“Seems so, though Fleur reckons Bill’s a bit put out,” sniggered Ginny, sending a tray of cutlery through the air and into an awaiting drawer.

“About what?” Harry asked.

“About Charlie,” she told him. “His letters have been pretty reticent, and Bill figures Charlie must be keeping quiet because of a woman, and if so, she must be a right nightmare.”

“But why should she be awful? Why shouldn’t Charlie have found someone wonderful?”

Harry chuckled, putting a bracing hand on Hermione’s shoulder as he passed her. She would always be optimistic.

“Well, love,” Ron interjected, “I don’t think you’ve seen the sort of birds Charlie fancies.”

Ron and Harry exchanged a knowing look. They’d gone out to the pubs on more than one occasion with Fred and Charlie since the war ended. Charlie had an inclination to seek out tall, thin, blonde and brainless. Harry supposed the dimmer they were, the easier it was to send them on their way in the morning with too little regret.

“With Charlie’s taste in women, I can just imagine what he’ll bring home. Mum would have a fit.” Ron shrugged.

Hermione seemed mildly indignant on Charlie’s behalf. To her, Charlie had always been a mild flirt, but she respected his caring nature with animals and seemed to sympathize with not being able relate with a lot of folks. She had also been protected from seeing Charlie’s darker, depressed and drunken self.

Ron put his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and squeezed. “I don’t like saying so about my brother. Maybe he’s changed.”

“Well if he’s found a _person_ and not a bloody animal he can actually get on with, then it’s all the better, I say,” Ginny added from behind a stack of copper-bottomed pots she whisked onto a rack above the stove.

“It has happened very quickly in any case. I’ll grant that. Could he have really got to know her well enough to become friends? Love based on friendship is the strongest, I think. Especially when you’re the best of friends.” Hermione looked up from the box she was unloading and stole a glance at Ron.

“I dunno, your best friend, eh?” Ron said, looking skeptically at Harry. Harry blew a kiss at him and waved his fingers making ‘eyes.’

“Not Harry – _me,_ you prat!” Hermione swatted Ron’s arm.

“Like George and Lee too,” Ginny said with a grin, and both girls giggled.

Harry and Ron exchanged a skeptical glance at this but didn’t say anything. They both had promised their support to George, but the whole idea of _that_ was still something they couldn’t quite understand. But as Ginny and Hermione seemed enamored of the new couple, it seemed best not to mention it.

Their conversation moved quickly away from Charlie and onto the more mundane issues of arranging furniture and choosing which cupboard to put the plates and mugs in. Ginny really couldn’t care less and Harry had no opinion either, but he had seen Hermione and Ron have rousing arguments over the most efficient placement of the dishes. Anything for a good, exciting argument apparently.

“Harry,” Ginny whispered in his ear, “I’m sure you’ll know with clarity when I’m upset with you, but I’ll never fuss at you about dishes, I promise.”

They sniggered together and stole a kiss while they could.

“Hey!” Harry grabbed her once more. She turned to him and he pulled her close for another moment, his hand resting on the top of her bum, and nuzzled her ear before whispering, “Only two more days.”

“I know,” she said, kissing him, scrubbing her thumb over the rough stubble that grew on his chin. “I’m counting, too.”

~^~

 

_A/N - My continued thanks to my Checkmated beta, BelovedRanger, for working so promptly on this. Many hugs to Quizzical, AlliPotter and Lnalvgd for their help and encouragement. The next chapter is nearly complete and will be published much sooner than these recent updates have been. Thank you so much for reading and leaving comments, it means so much to me!_


	12. Here, There and Everywhere

Within You, Without You  
Chapter 12 – Here, There and Everywhere

~^~

Harry and Ginny entered the Burrow’s kitchen; both were tired, after spending the day setting up the house. Feeling reflective about casting the matrimony spell tomorrow, they’d hoped for food and distraction tonight. Instead, they walked into a very odd sight.

Bill, Fred, and a very pregnant Fleur were in front of the door leading to the lounge, apparently eavesdropping on someone. Fred and Fleur were embroiled in a silent battle over the few inches of space that Bill had left available, and they were swatting at each other’s hands.

Ginny and Harry shared a curious glance at each other, and quickly looked back when Fred whispered a yelp.

“Ow! What’d ya do that for?” he hissed at Bill, rubbing his shoulder.

“ _Rules_ ,” Bill growled, tucking his wand back into his back pocket, having apparently just hexed Fred. “Quit fighting or I’ll bee sting you again,” he added distractedly, the side of his head still pressed to the door.

“But _she_ started it,” Fred argued.

“I’m not going to hex my pregnant wife, am I? Now quiet, I can’t hear.”

Fleur scrunched her turned up nose and made a prissy little sound at her brother-in-law.

Fred narrowed his eyes, looked at Bill again, and then huffed. Acknowledging Harry and Ginny’s arrival with a nod, he slumped over to them.

“Charlie’s here with the bird. They’re in talking to Mum and Dad now. And I don’t have any Extendable Ears with me!”

The kitchen Floo burst into flame just then and they paused for the sound of the flames to quiet down after Ron and Hermione stepped out.

“So, did you see her? What’s she like?” Ginny asked Fred excitedly.

“See who?” Hermione asked in a whisper, immediately picking up on the hushed anticipation in the room.

“Charlie _has_ brought a girl with him, after all,” Ginny told her.

“Oh!”

“I dunno, haven’t seen her yet,” Fred answered Ginny’s question in hushed conspiracy. “I only got here a few minutes ago and found them already listening in.”

“Ooh!” Fleur suddenly squeaked.

“Go, go!” Bill whispered as the two of them scuttled away from the door. “They’re coming.”

Fleur moved to stir a pot on the stove and Bill quickly took a seat, looking ‘casual.’

“Oh, _very_ dignified,” Hermione teased, and he smiled, slightly shamefaced at the accusation, and chuckled.

The door swung forward and Charlie emerged, slightly red-faced, and his eyes opened wide in surprise at the unexpected gathering.

“Hullo family,” he said. Ron and Fred greeted him with hugs and hand shakes.

“Hey, little girl,” he said as Ginny lunged at him, squeezing him around the neck as he lifted her off the ground. “How’s the bride?”

“I’m fine. I’m so pleased you could come back.”

“Me too, Ginny,” he said sincerely. “It was a good time for it.”

“Harry,” Charlie said, setting Ginny down, extending a handshake. “Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” he said, noting how different Charlie looked from the last time he saw him. Then, he’d been drunk, bitter, and humbled by Bill’s ‘reprimand.’ But now he had clear, bright eyes and a relaxed manner in him that Harry hadn’t seen since before the war. “Everything all right at the reserve for you?”

“Quite. There’s a lot of work to be done,” Charlie answered. “But we have a good team working on it.”

The door opened again and Mrs. Weasley entered arm in arm and deep in conversation with a young woman and Mr. Weasley closely followed them.

“Let me introduce all of you,” Charlie said, beginning to pinken up. He extended his hand to the young woman who was no more than Harry’s height but seemed to be positively solid as Charlie.

She met his eyes and gave him a reassuring look that conveyed some imperceptible communication as she pushed a stray curly lock of dark brown hair behind her ear and took his hand.

“This is Naama,” Charlie said, putting a protective arm around her. “She’s the Magizoologist assigned to the team, this year. She’s great with dragons - everything really.” Charlie smiled at her and she gave his belly a tiny pinch. “And, erm,” Charlie continued, clearing his throat. “She’s also my wife.”

The air in the room seemed to thin with the collective inhale that took place. Although the woman seemed well aware that she was being inspected and speculated upon, she didn’t look terribly fluffed by it. And one thing seemed certain by the sheepish pride that exuded off Charlie as he looked at Naama’s pretty olive skinned face and almond shaped eyes: Charlie was in love.

“Shalom everyone,” Naama said. Her deep, honeyed voice broke through the awkward silence, lingering gently on the open vowel sounds. “It is so nice meet you finally.”

Another moment passed in the very quiet kitchen, while Naama patiently waited for the shock to abate, while all eyes stared at her.

“N -Naama, is it?” Fred spoke up, being the first to find his tongue. “Well love, you’re either a bit touched in the head, or head over heels over this big Hippogryff, but I’ll congratulate you in any case.” Fred took her hand gently, giving her a very cordial kiss on the cheek.

“Todah-thank you, George? Or are you Fred?” she asked, glancing about, apparently looking for another similar face.

“Fred,” he confirmed, with a smirk. “George and Lee’ll be along soon.”

“Lee?” Naama asked. “He is not one of your brothers.”

“No, he’s not. Lee is the twins’ best mate from school,” Charlie said.

“Ah, I see.”

Harry saw Fred’s eyes narrow slightly at Bill who responded with a slight shrug and a shake of his head. Apparently Bill hadn’t filled Charlie in about George’s recent announcement to the family.

Naama was shaking Ron’s hand and exclaimed loudly. “Then you are surely Ron, yes? Walla, you are good looking - Molly, really, you make handsome boys!”

Mrs. Weasley beamed in spite of the breach of etiquette.

Ron flushed and muttered a barely audible introduction to Hermione. Harry watched with removed amusement as the family welcomed a new member into their midst. The Weasleys had accepted Hermione and him years ago, and slipping into the fold by means of marriage was fairly smooth – _so far_ , he conjectured - but Fleur and now Naama’s merging was done with welcome, but with thorough scrutiny as well. He could only image what Lee Jordan must feel like.

Harry felt a small sure hand on his waist and Ginny’s warm breath on his shoulder blade as she spoke in a low voice that only he could hear.

“Wow – huh? What do you think?” she asked.

“Oh. I dunno,” Harry muttered over his shoulder to her, while they watched Naama engage Hermione in conversation, allowing Ron to slink away from the general praise of his good looks. “Should I have an opinion about her?”

“Just look at how Charlie’s smiling. Looks proud, doesn’t he? But not swotty and full of himself. He looks happy. And Mum’s placated enough.”

“Who’s gone and placated Mum?” interrupted George, who had just entered the door behind them.

But Harry barely had a chance to smile at him before George, being taller than Harry and Ginny, was noticed and called over.

“Ok – here we go,” George muttered to them. “You better come along, too, mate, I’m not doing this alone,” he added to Lee, who said something under his breath and followed dutifully.

Ginny’s arms slipped around Harry’s waist and they watched together as Naama was welcomed into the arms of the family. Charlie beamed as he introduced his bride, and she didn’t seem to mind the scrutiny.

Harry traced circles over the back of Ginny’s hand that rested on his stomach, while across the noisy room, George kissed his new sister-in-law on the cheek and after a few moments of conversation, he and Charlie went out into the garden.

Harry continued touching Ginny’s hand, and closed his eyes thinking about how her hand had felt on his body a couple hours earlier. Her hand _and_ her mouth. He could still feel the slight soreness in the small of his back from lying directly on the hard-wood floor while she hovered over him, sucking on him until he thought he’d go blind with the force of his orgasm.

Then he smiled again at the pain in his knees from lying on his belly while he loved her with his mouth. He licked his lips, still able to taste her-

Ginny patted his belly and gave him a squeeze. “I think I’ll go introduce myself now. Poor thing. The lot of us are a bit much to take all at once. But there’s nothing for it; she’s in a fix now. See you later, love.”

“Yep, I’ll be here.”

~^~

After a hearty meal of chicken parcels with cauliflower-potato bake and plenty of loud conversation on the side, the party had retreated from the confines of the stuffy, crowded house to the open air of the garden. Harry was telling Remus and Mr. Weasley about the protection spells he’d used to ward off dark magic from the new house in Godric’s Hollow. There would be no ghouls or Boggarts taking up residence in the attic or under the sinks.

Percy quietly joined them, seemingly taking an interest in the conversation, and shortly after, he sensed Ron near his side as well. None of this felt out of place to Harry, as there was an undercurrent of anxiety thrumming through the inhabitants of the Burrow and as usual he was at the center of it.

Remus continued speaking about keeping Horklumps out of the garden and nodded hello to Bill and Charlie as they sidled up to them. Harry was taking a great interest in what was being said about repelling gnomes from the water well, and didn’t pay much attention when Fred and George flanked him.

Harry did, however, notice the change in Remus’ expression when Mr. Weasley coughed and excused himself with an odd smile.

That’s when Harry finally noticed the blinking eyes and highly animated smiles on the Brothers Weasley, and with a jolt of apprehension he suddenly realized there was no way that they were taking an interest in the conversation at hand.

A glint of some understanding flickered through Remus’ subtle grin.

“Ah, yes. Well, Harry,” Remus said, looking around at the sudden gathering that had surrounded them. “Anytime you have questions about those charms, please, just let me know.” He was clearly excusing himself, but then added, “I will be just right over here, mind.”

Harry felt his parting words were meant to be some consolation, and perhaps contained a hint of some kind of warning as Remus walked away.

Taking a steadying breath, Harry observed the freckled faces of the men around him and was well accustomed to the Lockhart-like shining smiles and the gleam that showed in their eyes.

“Okay, then, I get it,” Harry said slowly, feeling like a worm on hook. “This is the part where all the big brothers threaten me within an inch of my life about taking good care of their little sister, right? To tell me if I ever make her cry, or hurt her in any way I’ll disappear and no one will ever find the disassembled parts, yeah?”

They all chuckled quietly and gave each other pointed looks as though the tension was broken, but Harry wasn’t disarmed just yet.

“Nothing like that at all, kid,” Bill said. “We know you’ll be good to our sister.”

“Course you will!” Fred said. “You’ve been with the family for awhile now.”

“-And we’re glad to have you,” George completed.

“She chose you. We all respect that,” Percy said, adjusting his glasses, looking only slightly out of place with his brothers.

Harry was literally backed against the wall of the shed with the brothers making a semi-circle in front of him.

“We’d never threaten you, Harry,” Bill said. “We just want to let you know that you’re … one of us now.”

Harry detected hesitation on Bill’s part, as his eyes darted to Charlie, who then spoke up.

“That’s right. You see, the thing is, well, Bill and I were already off to school when the babies came along.” Charlie reached up and patted his ‘baby’ brother Ron on the head, who looked down at him. “But we’ve all marked each other along the way.”

“Yeah, incurable arachnophobia, thanks to Fred,” Ron said, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve had my arm broken twice,” George said. “Once by Charlie, and once by Fred.”

“Nearly lost an eye when Bill broke my glasses,” Percy added.

“See this?” Fred smiled wide, and pointed at his front tooth. “Chipped, by Percy.”

“George set my hair on fire once,” Bill said, quite happily.

“That’s right,” George agreed. “And in return, he charmed my arse cheeks together.”

They all shared a reminiscent chuckle and Harry couldn’t help but join in. Each of them seemed to feel a sense of pride for the injuries they’d sustained and inflicted on each other. As if it was a sign of belonging. Of all the times Harry could remember getting pounded by Dudley, he was never left feeling full of familial attachment. But the Weasleys were different.

“See, we’ve all paid our dues in this family,” Fred said. “Everyone belongs.” He slung an arm over George’s shoulder. “No matter what.” He squeezed George’s shoulder and gave a quick sharp look to Charlie.

Bill quietly cleared his throat and took a swig of Charlie’s Butterbeer, then he passed it back and spoke.

“We’ve got your back now, man. And all the _Rules_ apply to you now as well.”

Harry studied Bill’s face, which bore a mask of sincerity that barely veiled amusement. He then looked to Ron, whose pursed lips and twinkling eyes was confirmation enough. ‘The Rules’ dictated that younger brothers couldn’t use magic against elder brothers, an old tradition that kept discipline among large families of wizards. With Harry in the line of succession now, this meant that Ron was no longer the end of the line: Harry was.

Ron sipped his drink with a smirk and Harry narrowed his eyes slightly before looking back at Bill, who shook his hair out of his face and extended his hand to Harry.

Harry finally let his guard fall away as he took the hand offered by his surrogate big brother, the head of the fraternity he was joining.

“I appreciate that, Bill. Thanks.” Harry was looking Bill directly in the eye as he spoke, and just as he said the word ‘thanks,’ Bill’s grip on his hand tightened. The older man pulled back his left hand and punched Harry in the arm.

_Hard._

__Harry grunted and saw the slight rise of Bill’s eyebrow and hint of a smile that echoed Ron’s when he kept a secret. Harry understood immediately that this was a challenge.

Recovering from the shock and ignoring the muffled guffaws around him, he composed himself and smiled.

“ _Thanks,_ ” he said again, wishing his voice was a bit steadier. He heard a snigger that indicated that it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He couldn’t be bothered with it though, because Charlie stepped up in front of him.

“I’ve got nothing but respect for you, little man,” he said, holding out his right hand. “Welcome to the family.”

Harry’s insides plummeted at the thought of taking a frogging from Charlie, but he met his eye and didn’t pause as he took Charlie’s larger, calloused hand to shake it.

_Fuck, ow, ow, ow!_ Harry screamed in his head, fighting all natural instincts to react, as Charlie’s fist struck his arm, the middle knuckle slightly protruding from the rest.

“Thank you, Charlie,” he said, his voice perfectly even. _Wankers, I’m thanking them for this!_

Percy, who had just had George whispering into his ear, then took up his place in front of Harry. He pushed up his glasses and offered his hand.

“I know you’ll make Ginny very happy, Harry,” Percy said somewhat awkwardly. Harry almost felt a little sorry for Percy, knowing that he’d been wrangled into this macho showmanship by the rest. That was until Percy’s small but strong fist tagged his arm. Not as strong as either of the older brothers, but the spot was already tender and it hurt like hell.

Harry took a breath and shuddered, never breaking his eye contact with the other bespeckled face. “Thanks a lot, Percy. I’ll certainly try.”

He wanted desperately to rub his already painfully sore arm. The throbbing was traveling down to his wrist.

This was when he noticed that Fred, just like the three before him, had conspicuously tucked his wand behind his ear. They all could have used magic on him here if they’d wished to. Harry could be dangling upside down and naked in the chicken coop muck right now. But no, this was more personal, and a hell of a lot more devious.

Typical.

“Big day tomorrow, mate,” Fred said, cheerily. “Don’t forget to wear fresh pants.”

Harry didn’t have another second to ponder Fred’s usual oddity before his vision swam with the jolt of another blow to his well-bruised bicep. He rolled his head slightly, but forced a smile.

“Clean boxers, check,” Harry grunted, his heart pounding now. “Thanks, Fred.”

Harry wondered if his recent contention and reconciliation with George bought him better or worse favor in the strength of ‘brotherly love’ he was about to receive.

“Our sister is one capable little witch,” George said, holding out his right hand. Harry could no longer lift his own right arm. The muscles were cramping up on him. George quirked a smile and reached down to take Harry’s hand for him and shook it. “I’ve no doubt you’ll treat her right, Harry.”

“ _Oh!_ ” Harry exclaimed, trying not to flinch but failing miserably. “I will, George, I will. … Thanks.” Harry’s eyes watered and he blinked back the reaction. He was aching mercilessly and his arm twitched on its own, but Harry was stubborn enough to force a smile and carry on one last time.

Harry stood ramrod straight as Ron set his drink down and took his own place, last in line behind his brothers. Harry hadn’t looked for Ron’s reaction to all of this and noticed that he didn’t look nearly as mischievous as the rest. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fred nudge one of the others as Ron stood before him. They probably wondered, as he did, if Ron would be easy on him.

He looked up into the eyes of his friend: the one person who was responsible for saving his life numerous times and for Harry having this family now and having met the woman he loved.

Ron reached down for Harry’s right hand, which hung limp and aching at his side.

“You’re already my brother. You know that,” Ron said with a genuine smile. “Welcome to the family, mate.”

If Harry or any of the others had thought Ron would spare him, out of long time friendship, they were all quite wrong. As he shook Harry’s hand, he pulled back and punched Harry’s arm worse than any of the others. Harry inhaled sharply and Ron instantly yanked on the hand that he shook, and pulled him into a rough, brotherly hug.

Harry was glad for it, as he surreptitiously wiped a tear on Ron’s shirt, and his small groan of pain and relief was muffled into Ron’s chest as the others laughed.

Harry had passed their hazing and had accepted their ‘warning’ with humility, just as he was expected to. He was surrounded then in a close group hug, congratulating him and scruffing his hair.

“You guys are just the _best_ brothers a bloke could hope for,” he said, only the tiniest quiver in his voice and with sarcasm deeply set. He set his teeth in a grin and glared. “ _Wankers_.”

Ron held Harry about the shoulders and started walking him towards the house. Remus joined them on the other side, biting his lip to hide away a smirk.

“You’re ah, a very _lucky_ young man, Harry, to marry a young woman with so many brothers.” Remus chuckled, his own sarcasm evident.

“Yeah, aren’t I?” Harry said dryly.

“Chocolate?” Remus asked, holding out a partially unwrapped bar. Harry tried to take the bar with his right hand, but was foiled by the screaming burn in his arm; he was using his left hand to rub it. Instead he leaned forward and took off a bite while Remus held it steady.

He and Ron chuckled at Harry.

“Now, let’s get you a drink,” Ron said. “Bet you could use it.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “You going to hold the bottle for me, too?”

Ron only grinned and clapped Harry on the shoulder.

Harry looked across the garden at Ginny, surrounded by family as he was, by people who loved them. She smiled at him, and he canted his head in acknowledgment. He may have passed a contrived test of his worthiness, but there wasn’t a soul who knew him that wasn’t certain that Harry would die for her, and would love Ginny Weasley for the rest of his life.

“Tomorrow,” Harry whispered to himself.

~^~

_A/N - Many thanks to Quizzical, Lnalvgd and Gwen1170 for the pre-beta work and to my CM beta, BelovedRanger, who has worked on this story for so long now. One more chapter will follow this one, to close out this segment of the story. I look forward to hearing your comments. Please remember to check out :The Glass Onion” if you are interested in reading George and Lee's story -_ And a huge Ron snog to Yaara who helped me give 'Naama' her voice. - _Thank you!_


	13. Across The Universe

Within You, Without You  
Chapter 13 – Across the Universe  
  
~^~  
  
Harry balanced on one elbow, lying over Ginny’s warm, slightly damp, beautifully nude body. With one hand lifting her hip and bum upward, he was grinding against her open legs, her knees rising up on either side of him, cradling his hips.  
  
All this time, all these years, all _day_ ; they’d been waiting for this…  
  
~  
  
Harry was left alone to have a lie-in, but of course he couldn’t sleep. Still he stayed in his comfortable bed, watching the sunlight creep down the wall and slowly across the floor as the morning passed.  
  
He felt a thrum of adrenaline rushing through him, a hint of exhilaration for what the day would bring, but it was concealed under a thick sense of _calm_. He’d experienced this tingling sensation many times before, but back then it was spurred by dread and fear and nauseating resignation. There was no fear or dread now, and although no less nauseated perhaps, he was purely happy.  
  
Smiling, he listened to the sounds of Ron and Hermione shuffling around the house, having whispered arguments in the hall and clanging dishes in the kitchen more than ever, which was a sure sign that they were attempting to be quiet.  
  
He was going to miss them and living here in their house.  
  
As if his feelings summoned them, there was a gentle knock on his bedroom door. Hermione peeked in with a smile and a breakfast tray in hand.  
  
“Good morning, Harry!” she greeted in an emotive shrill, full of feminine enthusiasm.  
  
“Good morning, Hermione,” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he reached down for last night’s t-shirt on the floor next to his bed. The breakfast tray was firmly set on his lap as he pulled his shirt on and re-placed his glasses. “So what’s this?” he asked.  
  
“Breakfast, of course.” Hermione sat on the bed by his knees. “I tried to get Ron to make a big, special breakfast for you, but he seemed to think you wouldn’t care to eat anything more than toast.”  
  
Harry eyed the single piece of toast and small pot of tea and contemplated his churning stomach. He looked up at Ron, who was leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Good call, mate.”  
  
Ron snickered softly through his nose and looked at his feet. “I reckon I remember what it feels like to get married.”  
  
“So, do you need anything, Harry?” Hermione asked, pouring his tea.  
  
He shook his head, thinking the sound of his chewing toast sounded rather louder than it ought to.  
  
“M’fine,” he answered, swallowing  
  
“All right then, I’m going to help Ginny get ready.”  
  
“ _Get ready?_ Now?”  
  
“Yes, it’s already half nine. The wedding is at three, isn’t it?”  
  
Harry glanced at Ron, to see if he also failed to follow the logic of needing five and half hours to prepare. Ron’s vague shrug and twitching cheek muscle confirmed his agreement of the lunacy of women.  
  
“Oh hey, tell Ginny …” Harry started to say, but then stopped. There just didn’t seem much point in sending a message.  
  
Hermione smiled at him and leaned up to kiss his forehead.  
  
“I will tell her,” she assured, patting his arm. “Now I’ll trust you two to shower and dress properly, and Ron, make sure he brushes his hair, please?”  
  
“I think we can manage cleanliness, love,” Ron answered in sarcasm, and then smirked at Harry. “No guarantees on his hair though.”  
  
~^~  
  
Ginny passed her morning in reflective quiet in spite of the chattering female relatives that besieged her. Hermione’s company was actually welcome. Any of them alone would have been fine, but the whole coven together was just too much. She joined them in having a laugh at their reflections of wedding anecdotes gone by, but her focus wasn’t with them.  
  
Mercifully, they endorsed her retreat to take a bath. They assumed she was taking in a long soak for pamper and beautification, but she spent her time in the bubbles to avoid them and enjoy her solitude.  
  
She was going to marry Harry today. She had slept the last night in her parents; home and tonight would be spent in her own house.  
  
With her husband.  
  
In their bed …  
  
Thoughts of what the night would bring made her subconsciously clench her thighs together and curl her toes. She was slightly mortified to feel the urge to squeal like a _girl_ , which wasn’t something she was ordinarily disposed to do. But Harry made her feel like that. Something in him always invoked a reaction that surprised her. She was good with people, observing things in them that they often didn’t notice themselves, but it was her own behavior in regards to Harry that often took her off guard.  
  
She liked that. Whatever life was going to be with Harry, it wasn’t going to be boring.  
  
~^~  
  
Harry arrived in his new house without quite remembering the travel there. He had entire conversations with people that he would never remember having. He felt as though he moved in slow motion, weighted down by a thickness in the air, feeling quite removed from himself.  
  
He and Ginny had decided to have an informal wedding. Harry was vaguely aware of flowers, fairy lights and candles but his sense of detachment prevented him from focusing on extraneous details like decorations. His private little universe was struck with crisp clarity the moment Ginny arrived. He sensed a flurry of activity around them, but everything was peripheral to the stillness that he felt between Ginny and himself.  
  
“Hi there, beautiful,” Harry greeted Ginny as they met each other in the center of the living room.  
  
“Hello.” They clasped hands and stared into each other’s eyes, sharing a small smile.  
  
“You two save the snogging for later,” George said as he, Fred and Lee walked past.  
  
“Yeah, keep your hands where we can see them, too!” Fred added.  
  
They smiled to each other but otherwise ignored the comments.  
  
“You doing okay?” Harry asked in a low voice only meant for her to hear.  
  
“I’m fine. But Harry, the next time we get married, let’s do it first thing in the morning so we don’t have all day long to fret about it, okay?”  
  
Harry sniggered in agreement. “Right. You got it – _next_ time.”  
  
Ginny licked her lips and Harry pushed up his glasses and they shuffled awkwardly, knowing that people were beginning to gather around, watching them.  
  
“You look _fab_ ulous, by the way,” Ginny whispered, appraising him in his black trousers and white oxford. “According to the nagging I’ve received all morning, the ladies are annoyed at our choosing to be informal. Apparently we’ve deprived them the opportunity to dress in uncomfortable clothes for the day.”  
  
“Something else to remember to do differently for our next wedding, then,” Harry joked nervously, and only then noted the simple cream-colored summer robe she wore.  
  
“All right you two, everyone’s ready,” Remus said quietly, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You remember all the words to the spell? Do you have any questions?”  
  
They both shook their heads. Harry had been repeating the words to himself incessantly for weeks.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley approached them with last minute instructions as well. Harry wasn’t sure if it was just the rushing sound in his ears, or if the room had begun to quiet.  
  
“Ginny, dear, I know you didn’t want all the fuss,” Mrs. Weasley wheedled, “but please tell me you aren’t really going to get married wearing those tatty trainers.”  
  
“Oh, I forgot! No worries, Mum, I’m not.”  
  
Ginny toed off her dingy gray and scuffed trainers, and kicked them clumsily off to the side. As Ginny stood before Harry with bare feet, Mrs. Weasley made a disapproving clucking sound, but Harry was glad that she let the topic of Ginny’s attire rest.  
  
Harry tried to commit to memory everything about the moment, but he knew he couldn’t. They each took turns uttering the matrimony spell, which bore words of commitment, honor, and trust. The decorations, the clothing and the food weren’t things he would remember, but he would remember the tension in his throat and the buzz of magic as he invoked the spell that bound their lives together. He would remember her tiny fingers giving him squeezes of encouragement, and how the golden flecks in her eyes sparkled when she teared up.  
  
And then, quite abruptly, the spell was complete, the tension eased, emotion swelled, and they were married.  
  
~  
  
After being congratulated, back-patted, hand shook and cheek pinched for over an hour, he and Ginny had managed to dash upstairs. Needing to use the loo was as practical an excuse as any to get a moment’s peace. They took their turns and met again at the landing at the top of the stairs.  
  
“I didn’t expect more gifts. Can you believe that?” Ginny said.  
  
“Yeah, after all the furniture we’ve been given already, it was kind of embarrassing.” Though ‘embarrassing’ wasn’t exactly the emotion he felt about some of the gifts.  
  
Mrs. Bentley from the bed and breakfast in the village had brought the little black owl, Castor, with her and presented him as a gift to them, well, _to Ginny_ he thought. He had maintained a polite smile, but he really didn’t want anything to do with the bird. Seeing how Ginny’s face lit up when she held the scrawny creature in her arms was enough to keep him from saying anything about the matter. A part of him knew he was going to have to deal with it sooner or later.  
  
Ginny ran her hands up the outside of Harry’s arms, clutching him as she went up on her toes to kiss him. He tensed his arm and tried to mask a slight grimace.  
  
“What’s the matter?” she asked.  
  
“ _Nothing,_ ” he said quickly, not meeting her eyes. “Did you want to go dance?”  
  
“Nothing, my wand! Let me see that arm.” Ginny held Harry’s left wrist and pushed up his sleeve. Her jaw dropped and eyes narrowed as she discovered the ugly red and purple bruise that marred the outside of Harry’s bicep.  
  
“Bloody twats!” she spat. “Those small-balled bast-”  
  
“Now calm down! It’s not what you think,” Harry implored, re-adjusting his sleeve then reaching for Ginny to calm her down.  
  
“It’s _exactly_ what I think! I’ve seen marks like that in this family before! Charlie once snuck out during summer holidays and all the boys were punished for trying to cover for him. He sported a bruise just like that one for a week afterwards. And that’s not the only time. Of all the stupid-”  
  
Ginny turned, fury obvious in her small frame but she only managed a single step before Harry caught her around the waist and hauled her back again.  
  
“Wait a second now, Gin, please. You’re right, okay? It _was_ a stupid brother thing.” He set her down and glanced away with a slight flush before looking back, giving her a deep, imploring look. “But it was a _brother_ thing,” he repeated, raising his eyebrows, hoping she would appreciate his meaning. “Don’t say anything about it, okay?”  
  
Ginny softened to Harry’s plea. As ridiculous as her brothers’ ways were, she understood some of the rites of passage between them.  
  
“Fine, then. I promise I won’t say a thing,” she swore. Harry looked at her calm, unreadable expression and then with some caution, leaned down to kiss her.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
She and Harry went downstairs into the living room again. As Ginny slipped her arms around him while they danced, he felt her remove her wand from his back pocket and just as he gave her a questioning look, all the Weasley men in the room let out a yelp and began rubbing their left arms.  
  
“Ginny!” Harry scolded.  
  
“I didn’t _say_ a word, Harry,” she responded, blinking with sarcastic innocence.  
  
“ _Witch_ ,” he growled, digging his fingertips into her waist, tickling her.  
  
“All right, who taught her that one?” Percy demanded, still rubbing his arm.  
  
“I did,” Bill confessed, wincing down at his own arm, while Fleur peered up his sleeve at the Bee Sting hex Ginny had cast on them all.  
  
“Well, you taught her well, Son,” Mr. Weasley’s airily amused voice responded. He was also rubbing his left arm.  
  
“Oh shite.” Ginny whispered the epithet. “I’m sorry, Dad,” she said sincerely. “I didn’t mean to get you too.”  
  
“That’s all right, sweetheart,” Mr. Weasley chuckled. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips looking annoyed and cast a healing charm, patting her husband’s arm. He kissed the top of his wife’s head and then winked at Harry.  
  
None of the brothers’ hexes were healed however. Their respective spouses and partners seemed to think Ginny’s sibling-justice was as suitable as their own.  
  
Harry looked down at Ginny and raised an accusing eyebrow.  
  
“I promised I wouldn’t _say_ anything, and I didn’t!” Ginny exclaimed quietly.  
  
Harry grumbled something incoherent about ‘women’ and pulled her close.  
  
“Hey,” Ginny said softly, her arms wrapping around his neck while she ran her thumb over his forehead, pushing around his messy hair back. “It’s you and I together now, right? Your battles are my battles too.”  
  
“You’re right.” Harry nodded, resting his forehead against hers, and whispered, “ _My hero_.”  
  
While the rest of the guests were paired off and dancing, George and Lee were sitting around the end of a table, their heads bent together in conversation.  
  
Harry had yet to see any outward display of their relationship, until now. Lee had one foot hooked around George’s ankle under the table. He also recognized the look of two people who would rather not be where they currently were.  
  
Ginny observed it as well.  
  
“I suppose everyone is still not sure how to act around them,” she said under her breath. “Which makes them feel out of sorts, too.”  
  
“I know what it’s like to feel like everyone’s watching you. … How about we give them a break?”  
  
Harry sidestepped and turned them around so that they were right next to the two men.  
  
“’Lo,” George said, looking up at them. “Er, if you two came over for wedding night advice, I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong table.”  
  
Lee reached over and pinched George on the arm while Ginny flicked his other.  
  
“Think I’ll manage that all right, mate,” Harry said, hoping he could justify his bravado when the time came. “I just, _we_ just wanted to let you know you two are welcome here, at our place, anytime, you know?”  
  
George opened his mouth with no doubt another smartarse quip, but Lee put his hand firmly on George’s arm. “We appreciate that Harry, thanks.”  
  
“Say, Lee,” Ginny said. “I’d really like to see all of my brothers dancing at my wedding, and George is the only one still seated...”  
  
Lee and George looked mildly taken aback and glanced at each other.  
  
“Well,” Lee answered slowly. “We wouldn’t want to disappoint the bride on her wedding day…would we?” He put his hand over George’s and squeezed.  
  
“Ah, no, I believe that’s in the rule book,” George agreed. “The bride and groom get what they want.”  
  
So then, while everyone _watched_ but no one _looked,_ George and Lee joined the other pairs dancing to the song that played that first night last summer, when Harry had chased after Ginny, promising that he’d never let her go.  
  
~^~  
  
Harry and Ginny were finally alone when the last of the guests Apparated away. Ron and Hermione were the last to leave, and with imminent wedding night implications in the air, they were all left blushing and giggling like kids again.  
  
There was nothing stopping them from tumbling into bed to immediately do all the things they’d denied themselves until now.  
  
They looked around their empty house and shuffled awkwardly.  
  
“I uhm, I think I’ll lock up,” Harry suggested.  
  
“Right, I’m ... going – to take a bath!” Ginny replied and they each darted in separate directions.  
  
~  
  
The charmed bubbles in the bath calmed Ginny’s thoughts and soothed her muscles, but something in the steam gave her clarity of thought as well. She scrunched her face and pressed her hand to her burning cheeks at having suddenly felt nervous downstairs.  
  
The bathroom door swung open slowly with the sound of a gentle knock. Harry stood in the doorway with one shoulder on the frame, looking at her with a sweet, sheepish smile, chewing the corner of his lip.  
  
Ginny sunk into the bath slightly, her bent knees poking out of the water. There was no rational reason for her shyness, as Harry was well acquainted with her body, but she felt so very naked while he was so very dressed.  
  
Although she did notice he was barefoot now.  
  
“So …” Harry said slowly with a weak laugh. “Not, perhaps, one of my better Gryffindor moments down there.” He nodded his head back toward the stairs.  
  
“That’s all right,” she snickered. “My inner Godric failed me for a moment too.”  
  
The sounds of the water licking the sides of the tub and a lonely drip echoed in the silence between them. Harry took a breath and pushed his glasses up, taking a few hesitant steps into the room.  
  
“Your first bath here, eh? Is it nice?”  
  
His expression, the combined boyish timidity and grown wizard’s lust, twisted a brilliant pang of desire in her belly.  
  
“The bath _is_ lovely. … Care to join me?”  
  
He smirked and cocked his head. “I was considering it.” Harry’s hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt but found his pockets instead.  
  
All of Ginny’s former apprehension slipped away seeing Harry’s nervous smile.  
  
“Well then, _husband_ , let me help you make up your mind.” Ginny stood up and carefully stepped out of the water.  
  
Standing before him wearing only bubbles, she lifted Harry’s shirt over his head.  
  
He re-adjusted his glasses, and then quivered as she ran her damp fingers down his chest, teasing over his nipples before setting to open his fly. Harry wriggled his hips slightly as she pushed his trousers down, exposing his bare, ivory skin.  
  
Ginny gasped in faux shock. “Oh… I _like_ you with one less layer.”  
  
Harry sniggered as he stepped out of them. “You seem to prefer no pants. Thought I’d try it.”  
  
“Yes, I certainly do.” She smirked and tilted her head, blatantly surveying the lines of his torso and prominent hipbones, causing his resting cock to twitch under her gaze.  
  
They sank into the bubbles together. Straddling Harry with her knees on either side of his thighs, Ginny hovered over him, pouring water over his hair. Her breasts swayed in front of his slightly parted lips as he tilted his head backward.  
  
Ginny bit back a smile and arched slightly, allowing him to take the bud of her breast into his mouth. His attentions intensified while she washed his hair. The unexpected apprehension from earlier rinsed away with the almond scented lather.  
  
Harry’s face was flushed from the warmth of the water and his body responding with arousal. His hands slipped from her waist to her arse and back to her hips again.  
  
“You feel better now?” Ginny asked, sitting down carefully on his thighs, feeling his firming erection pressed between them.  
  
“To be honest … it’s occurred to me that there’s been an awful lot of build up to tonight … and maybe.” He cleared his throat. “You see, there are certain _phrases_ that have been used, to describe me.”  
  
“Oh?” He looked away from her speculative face. “You mean the one about how you’re _‘The Most Powerful Wizard Alive’_ …?”  
  
Harry let out a slightly high, babbling laugh. “That’s the one. It’s important to remember that’s just conjecture of sorts, and not really, er …”  
  
“Oh, hush.” Ginny kissed his rambling to an end before climbing out of the tub wrapping a towel around herself, beckoning him to follow.  
  
The bedroom was dark, glowing only with the moonlight that shone through the high windows and the candlelight from the bathroom.  
  
“I’m not afraid,” Ginny said.  
  
Harry looked in her eyes and then dropped them to her lips and kissed them with gentle authority.  
  
“Maybe I’m a little afraid,” he whispered.  
  
Ginny giggled and the sound of her ease and happiness loosened the knot that had tied up his emotions all day. He scooped her into his arms and carried her the last couple of steps to the bed. She squeaked and laughed again as they flopped down.  
  
After he tucked his glasses under a pillow, they kissed, shyly at first, lips meeting in a well-practiced routine, and after a moment of methodic snogging, some intensity sparked between them. Harry focused on their mouths, feeling the slick, raspy rub of their tongues together and the way Ginny would curl the tip of hers just at the end when he pulled away. She would suck on his bottom lip and he would tease her top one.  
  
She smelled positively edible and every movement she made was comforting and encouraging. As his anxiety from the day faded away, his desire grew.  
  
Harry threw the towel around his waist onto the floor. Ginny did the same, and then slid back on the bed.  
  
“You’re beautiful.”  
  
“So are you.”  
  
They rolled together, kissing and touching and clinging together, not allowing any space between them.  
  
Harry, feasting at her breasts once again, sought between her legs, highly mindful of the need to be gentle. She was already slick enough for his fingers to slip inside with ease. He moved two steadily within her, very slowly adding another, pushing deeper than he ever had before.  
  
“O _h_!” Ginny groaned. “Harry, I … I …” She was thrusting onto his hand, while he was thrusting a near painful hard-on into the bed covers.  
  
“I know, I know. Me too,” he muttered, shifting up over her.  
  
Their chests heaved with deep, anticipatory breaths that made them gasp between short kisses.  
  
Harry balanced on one elbow, lying over Ginny’s warm, slightly damp, and beautifully nude body. With one hand lifting her hip and bum upward, he was grinding against her open legs, her knees rising up on either side of him, cradling his hips.  
  
~  
  
Harry eyes met hers and she tried to give him a smile and a slight nod. She opened her knees wide and closed her eyes, feeling him reach down. The soft, rounded head of his cock teased against her opening. She clutched his shoulders, and felt it, _him_ , slide inside.  
  
He paused, pulled back and then surged slowly forward again. The deeper he went, the tighter she gripped him, inhaling more. She was gently and steadily stretched, filled in a way that was gentler than his fingers, but so much deeper. Ginny squeezed Harry through the intensity of the moment, her cheek pressed against his chest and her eyes shut tight.  
  
When Harry stilled, they both took several gasping breaths and Ginny fell back onto the pillow, her nails still digging into his shoulder blades.  
  
“Ginny, please open your eyes,” he whispered, which she barely heard over the slightly manic voice in her head flaily saying ‘ _This is sex! I’m actually having sex!’  
  
_ When she did open her eyes, her heart ached with the vision above her. Harry’s eyes were bright in the moonlight and etched with concern. His shaggy black hair was beginning to dry and was positively wild around his face.  
  
Gleaning no pain or fear in her eyes, he smiled, looking relieved.  
  
“I love you,” he whispered, soothing away tension creases on her forehead and kissing her face.  
  
Ginny willed herself to relax again, wrapping her legs around his, stroking the back of his thigh with her toes. When her hands reached his arse, she felt it flex as he pressed into her.  
  
“Ah!” She gasped, feeling the slight sting of his entry give way immediately to a wave of pleasure. “ _Oh_ … do that again,” she said.  
  
“Gladly,” Harry whimpered. Bowing his head to her shoulder, he began slow, thrusting movements, which Ginny felt inside of her as well as from his small muscular buttocks contracting under her hands.  
  
“I – I – _oh god_ I’m so close,” Harry’s voice strained. He pressed a kiss behind her ear and along her jaw and then pulled his knees under himself to sit up but remained inside of her. “Have to stop.” His eyes were closed and he breathed heavily, trying to calm down.  
  
Harry opened his eyes and the corner of his mouth rose in a slight smile, but his eyes were soft with concern.  
  
“You still feeling all right?” His voice was quiet and husky.  
  
Ginny swallowed. She couldn’t find her voice but nodded, making an encouraging ‘hum.’  
  
She reached down and touched Harry’s taut stomach, scratching her fingernails through the soft black hair that grew around the base of his cock and lightly wrapped her thumb and forefinger around it.  
  
Harry made slow circles on the insides of her thighs with his hands. He rocked his body, pulling out of her an imperceptible amount and pushing back in again, trapping Ginny’s fingers where she was feeling their joining bodies.  
  
Harry’s eyes fluttered and lips opened in a small gasp. “So perfect,” he whispered, watching the minute movement of their coupling. “I knew we would look good together.”  
  
“Yes,” Ginny agreed, subconsciously tightening her muscles around him. Harry grunted, his torso bowing as he responded by thrusting into her with sudden enthusiasm.  
  
“Sorry,” he gasped, still making an effort to control himself.  
  
“It’s okay,” Ginny soothed, placing her hands along his ribs, pulling him over her once more. She’d just realized that she had been lying back, blissfully enjoying the sensations of love making for the first time, and hadn’t done anything in return for Harry’s pleasure.  
  
He gave into her encouragement and shifted forward, rocking his body once again. She tightened her slick walls around him, smiling over his shoulder as he moaned in reaction. She experimented with pulling her knees up higher, her toes just grazing the bottom curve of his now perspiring buttocks and he fell heavier onto her chest, thrusting with greater vigor.  
  
“Uh, Merli-Gi-I-oh-I,” Harry spluttered tersely and his body tensed and trembled and he went silent.  
  
Ginny continued to tighten around him, pulling him down on her, holding him close with her arms and legs as he struggled to catch his breath.  
  
“Feels good,” she told him, squinting her eyes. The movement of him sliding in and out of her center wracked her body with an intense pleasure that forced a litany of uncontrolled and ungraceful noises from her throat.  
  
Ginny felt Harry’s body trembling and his pelvic movements became erratic. She knew well the sound of his strained, forced breathing, having brought Harry’s climax from him so many times before. Hugging him tight, she clenched her muscles around his achingly firm cock until he shuddered, whimpering garbled words into her hair. He lost himself, clutching her, as he came until his body went slack and heavy on top of her.  
  
~  
  
They lay facing each other with their legs scissored together for several minutes. Her forehead was bent to his shoulder, and he pressed nuzzling kisses into her hair.  
  
The quiet closeness felt good, but Ginny remembered how the women that morning had gushed romantic about the tender endearments shared in their wedding beds and couldn’t help feeling a frustrating lack of flowery things to say.  
  
She didn’t feel any ‘different’ for the loss of her virginity. There was no soreness, aside a minute sense of being ‘worn’. Harry was her husband now, her _lover_ in the truest sense of the word, and as far as she could tell, he was a good one at that. She was grateful for his instinct, which allowed her to avoid the pressure of trying to achieve an orgasm during this first time.  
  
What she did know was that it was fucking fantastic, that she wanted to do it again as soon as possible.  
  
And that she was hungry.  
  
“Want something to eat?” she asked – _so much for romance_.  
  
“Uh … actually, yeah,” Harry chuckled.  
  
“Me too! I’ll use the loo and meet you in the kitchen.”  
  
Ginny kissed Harry quickly and hopped out of the bed.  
  
~  
  
Harry lit the overhead lamp when he shuffled into the kitchen, startling slightly when a pair of eyes glowed at him from the corner of the room. He instantly remembered that Castor had been given residence of a perch by the window.  
  
“Don’t go making a habit of staring at me, you hear?” Harry grumbled.  
  
The bird blinked at him and then looked at its feet.  
  
Harry put a small pot on the stove and began heating beans.  
  
“I wasn’t planning on you being here, so you’ll have to wait until I adjust the charms on the windows so they’ll let you come and go.”  
  
Castor fluffed a bit in acknowledgement.  
  
“Hello sweetheart,” Ginny said as she entered the kitchen. Harry looked up with a smile until he realized she was talking to the bird. He had an urge to behave petulantly, but an unexpected wave of maturity kept his tongue in check.  
  
“Beans on toast all right?” Harry asked.  
  
“Yum – I’ll get the bread.”  
  
He wasn’t sure what Ginny was feeling about what they’d just done upstairs and really hoped he hadn’t been dreadful for her.  
  
“Harry,” Ginny said, with a sound of hesitation that made his throat constrict. “Can I be honest with you about something?”  
  
He tried to swallow, but couldn’t. She was going to tell him that sex was rubbish and that he was an utter disappointment and that he had hurt her and – but he contorted his cheeks into a smile and nodded his head. “’Course,” he choked out. “Anything.”  
  
“Mm, I’m a little embarrassed after what we’ve planned all this time,” she said slowly, fidgeting with the buttons of his dress shirt that she was now wearing.  
  
“Don’t be embarrassed, really. You can tell me anything and I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll try to make it better,” Harry promised, fumbling to spread the heated beans on the toast.  
  
“Er,” Ginny chuckled slightly at Harry’s vehemence and continued talking while she sliced a tomato. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d really like for us to go to the dragon reserve with Charlie and Naama instead of to Italy for our honeymoon.”  
  
Harry’s shoulders slumped with relief, and he rolled his head around. “Is _that_ all? I want to do that too! Only I thought it would be terrible to suggest camping for a honeymoon. I’m no expert, but I’m sure it’s not very romantic.”  
  
“Who cares about ‘romantic’? I’ve wanted to go see what Charlie does for as long as I can remember. And I’m sure we’d have fun, and Ron and Hermione are going too. It’ll be our first adventure together.”  
  
Harry beamed. “This is great, Gin!” He leaned in and kissed her with toast crumby lips. “I’ll send a letter to Charlie, right now.”  
  
Harry looked around the kitchen, not knowing where parchment or quills might be. He _Accioed,_ and a set flew neatly onto the table in front of them.  
  
He scribbled a note off, rolled it and approached Castor with it. Wizard and owl surveyed each other suspiciously for a moment before Harry spoke.  
  
“I assume you _can_ deliver post, yeah?”  
  
Castor looked very tiny in Harry’s shadow but he defiantly stuck out one foot to receive the letter.  
  
“For Charlie Weasley at Bill Weasley’s house, got it?”  
  
Castor seemed to stretch and shrug, causing the black feathers on his head to stand on end before he faced the window. Harry sighed and opened the window.  
  
“Dunno what you see in that animal. He’s a wreck,” Harry murmured, remembering how elegant Hedwig had been when she took off in flight.  
  
Ginny ran her hand through Harry’s hair, it sticking out on ends, and she snickered. “Oh, I can’t imagine.”  
  
They continued eating their impromptu late night breakfast.  
  
“I also want to …” She sighed. “To thank you.”  
  
Harry grinned but then toned it down to a smirk. “Why is that, exactly?”  
  
“For the _waiting._ I’m glad. Tonight wasn’t just another night’s shag. We can stay here, in our own house. I don’t have to go back to my parents’ place now. No avoiding the topic with my family. No family walking past the bedroom door … No family hovering outside the window. No _family_ anywhere…” She rolled her eyes at the ever-present existence of her family in their lives.  
  
Harry hugged her, rubbing his hands up and down her back and down her bum, discovering that she was, as usual, lacking knickers.  
  
Ginny let a soft laugh escape her nose as she ran her fingers up and down Harry’s torso. He was highly aware of his relative nudity, standing there in only his underpants, and he could feel the tell tale rush of blood that was about to reveal how easily she could rouse him.  
  
“I want to … do you want…?” Harry lowered his gaze. “Are you interested in going back upstairs with me? I’d like to spend some time making that better for you.”  
  
“Mmm,” Ginny purred against his chest, mouthing one of his pink nipples while circling his hipbones with her thumbs. “Not sure I want to wait to get upstairs.”  
  
“Oh bloody … It’s hard to believe just a few months ago all I could do was ache for the day you came home from school.” He took her face into his hands. “I’ve loved you for so long. Thank you for marrying me, for loving me.”  
  
If he couldn’t be an emotional sap on his wedding night, when else could he?  
  
“You’re easy to love, Harry. I don’t remember a time when I didn’t love you.”  
  
He pressed a kiss to her and lost all hope of concealing his arousal as she tugged on the waistband of his pants and let them fall. The idea of going anywhere else was clearly out of the question as they lowered onto the knit wool rug in front of the sink.  
  
They kissed and held each other, moaning with their gratification, and laughing quietly as they explored new ways to pleasure each other. Ginny made love to him from above this time, feeling secure and confident with his gentle encouragement.  
  
And Ginny knew now with certainty, what she’d always known about herself; she had been written into the pages of existence to love and be loved, by Harry Potter.  
  
~^~  
  
  
  
 _A/N – If you have taken the time to read this entire story, I would really love to hear your comments. There is more I would like to do with this universe someday, but being on the verge of the Deathly Hallows release, it seemed appropriate to close this with Harry and Ginny’s wedding.  
  
I really appreciate the readers who have supported this story – thank you!  
  
I would like to thank the Beatles who gave me the story and chapter titles. I appreciate Quizzical, Gwen 1170 and Lnalvgd who patiently pre-betaed this final chapter for me.  
  
There is not enough I can say about BelovedRanger! She has helped me improve as a writer and enhanced the crafting of this story immensely. Thank you so much for working with me!  
  
If you are interesting reading George and Lee’s story in this ‘universe’, you can read “The Glass Onion" here at TQP._


End file.
